Facts of the Heart
by BowtiesandHippoBroches
Summary: Blaine Anderson follows facts. Factually, he should be attracted to girls and never follow his heart. He was final on this decision until his junior year at Dalton when he met a boy named Kurt in the hospital. AU!
1. Chapter 1: Following Facts

**A/N: This is the first chapter to a multi-chapter story. This story addresses several things. Such as intersexes, homophobic bullying, attacks, and abuse, self-deprivation of sexuality, and homosexual intercourse. If you are aware of these things and are fine with these subjects, continue reading! The second chapter will be up soon so happy reading!**

**Warning: Mild swearing and sexual touching.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee. Fox, RIB, and the rest of its owners do. This is entirely for entertainment and fandom purposes.**

Facts Of The Heart

Chapter One: Following Facts

There are times when a person thinks that their final decision on a subject is final and never changing.

I come from an environment that is built on facts. My father is a physics professor at the university and my mother is a psychologist at the hospital. Facts are what I grew up on. Always follow your mind; a heart is only an organ. A heart cannot plan logical details and a heart does not want anything either. So feelings are merely selfish illusions. I believed in all these statements and no one could change my mind. That is, until I met Kurt; a boy who was unlike any boy I've ever met.

I was seven when I had my first crush, on a boy. I was young and naive so I made the mistake of telling my father about my crush. He responded by giving me a slap to the face and he told me to never look at boys that way again or real pain would came my way.

So I tried. I really tried to like girls. But nothing ever happened to my dopamine transmitter mom talks about, where a person feels attracted to another human being. So I came to the conclusion that feelings are not real. The fact is that boys like girls and girls like boys. So I found my first girlfriend a couple months ago: Vanessa Lang. She's a beautiful girl but when we kiss it's just weird.

I'm still dating her; thankfully I don't see her that much because I board at Dalton Academy. But everything I thought that I knew about facts and human behavior came back to haunt me. It all started on the first week in October of my junior year.

…

"What are you doing over there?" Brent, my roommate, asked me from across our shared dorm.

"Chemistry homework, what you should be doing," I grumbled, not bothering to look away from the textbook.

"I'll do mine _later_," Brent stressed.

"You mean at the last minute?" I asked lowly.

"The best time," Brent remarked proudly although he shouldn't be prideful in procrastination.

I shook my head. "You have no hope. Could you turn the T.V. down a little? Hard to concentrate."

"So go to the library."

"I can't," I strained.

"Why?"

"Wes and David are being too loud with their whispers." I defended.

"Ugh, whatever," Brent grumbled as I heard the T.V.'s volume lower a little.

Five minutes later, after completing the last Chemistry problem, my cell phone vibrated.

One new text from: **Mom**

**I've got a patient at the hospital who wants some info about Dalton**

I rolled my eyes. Every semester Dalton picks one of their academically eligible students to be a spokesperson for other possible students. They assumed students could relate to a student spokesperson better than a stuffy, all business, and adult spokesperson.

So now whenever a patient of mom's is interested, she expects me to go to the hospital and be Dalton's salesman. The last one didn't go too well…

…

"_I want to go to Dalton to get away from girls. Girls are the last thing I want to see."_

_I tried to keep my eyebrows at an appropriate level as I also tried to figure out why on earth mom thought it would be a good idea for me to talk to this imbecile. _

_I looked through my specialized folder and handed the slouchy-dressed boy an informative paper. "Well…if you are really that interested here is an estimate of your tuition calculated by—"_

"_Shit! Do I have to sell my soul here to get away from girls?" he remarked._

"_We are not only about being an all boy's school. Dalton is a private school that—"_

_His mouth formed in the shape of an "O" and then interrupted me once again, "Ah…a prep school. No thanks. I'll look into another all boy's school then."_

…

Don't think so.

**He is not like Justin. Just come talk to him.**

Every time I see one of your patients it never ends well.

**He has a good reason to go to Dalton. Just trust me.**

You say that about all your patients.

**If you see him I swear you don't have to see anymore of my patients. **

Maybe.

**I'll pay you 100.**

Be there in 20 minutes.

I began to pack my messenger bag and look for my specialized Dalton folder with all the information and forms when Brent realized what I was doing.

"Going to sale our school again?" he smirked.

"Hopefully he'll be the last one my mom is making me see."

…

The drive to Westerville Memorial was spent with me trying to gain charming composure before meeting a possible lunatic and planning an approach to make my mom satisfied and hopefully for her patient to _not_ want to enroll. After walking up to mom's floor and knocking on her office, she led me to another floor.

"Why are we on the research floor instead of the psychiatric ward?" I wondered as I glanced through the marble white floor with identical colored walls and room doors.

"This boy has got a lot of problems," she grumbled.

"Great," I sighed.

"Just—you just need to meet him." She shrugged at a loss of words for once.

I had no idea what she meant by that but I decided to play along. For the up side at least I'm getting paid and this will be my last run in with one of her patients. She stopped at room 3J and led me in.

A boy lied in the bed but his back was turned. He appeared to be sleeping. Another person was also in the room, a man dressed in flannel and a baseball cap; I assumed this man was the boy's father.

I strode over to the flannel-wearing man with a gentle, cautious smile before extending my hand to him.

"Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson. Student spokesman from Dalton Academy," I greeted. He looked up at me with a satisfied smirk and shook my hand.

"Burt Hummel," the man greeted himself. "I'll leave you and Kurt alone," he said standing up and leaving the room. I assumed the boy on the bed was named Kurt.

"I'll wake him up and let you two talk," said mom before gently shaking the boy's shoulder and murmuring quiet words into his ear. He started to stir in his sleep. Mom gave me short nod and left the room so I was completely alone with him.

I drew in a deep breath and approached the bed carefully. Somehow I felt that Kurt wouldn't give me too much trouble like mom's other patients. But what exactly did she mean by he has "a lot of problems"? She didn't give me any information.

The first thing I noticed when Kurt woke up was his eyes.

His eyes were spectacular.

He had the bluest eyes that I've ever seen on a boy. I just wanted to look into them for hours although that seemed strange probably. He was shocked at first, when he noticed me, but then glanced down at my folder and uniform.

"Oh you're from Dalton," he registered softly.

I nodded. "I'm Blaine Anderson," I said gently and shied away from to shaking his hand because I had no idea why he was in the hospital in the first place.

"Kurt."

"So why are you interested in Dalton?" I started, like usual.

"I need a safe place," he said simply. There was an exhaustion that I noticed in him. His blue eyes looked heavy and the tone behind his voice seemed so soft and strained.

My previous plan to try to convince the patient to not enroll was out the window. Kurt has not said more than a few words but I could clearly see that he needed Dalton.

"Well Dalton is excellent for that. We have a strict no bullying policy and are tolerant of all minorities," I reviewed the simple rules that I had memorized. His face seemed to light up when I said "no bullying". That interested me. "Are you having bully problems at your school, Kurt?" I asked him.

His face immediately fell and his blue eyes began to shimmer. I gasped quietly, immediately feeling like a horrible person. I've never seen a boy his age cry before and now I've caused it.

"They did this to me," he managed to choke out. I assumed he was speaking of the bullies at his school.

"Did…_what_ to you?" I asked, confused. I still have no idea why he is here and in the research floor of all places.

"Why I'm _here_. The—the bullies at school. They just wouldn't stop," he cried. I assumed he must have been attacked of some sort.

"So…were you originally sent to the ER?"

He nodded.

"Why are you on the research floor then?" I asked him.

"I don't want to talk about that," he muttered, sniffling a few times.

"That's fine. I'm sorry. But I promise you that you _will_ be safe at Dalton. There is not a single bully at our school and if anyone witnesses violence they report it to the school and that student with act of violence has two more chances before they get banned," I assured him.

He offered me his best smile before looking at me desperately. "I make excellent grades at my school. I'm a great student."

I smiled warmly back to the upset boy. "Well that's great. Dalton is a lot of work though." Like usual, I took an informative paper from my specialized folder and handed it to Kurt. "Now here is the estimate of the tuition at Dalton calculated on—"

"Can my dad look at this?" Kurt asked exhausted as he took the paper and laid it on his close nightstand.

"Of course he can. Do you have any more questions?"

Kurt shook his head.

"Okay well um…can I ask _you_ a question?" I asked carefully.

He nodded.

"Why are you bullied?"

"Because I'm gay," Kurt spat out like the word was venom. The word "gay" honestly made me flinch. For years I've tried to battle with that word and myself before I've come to the realization that I just have low attraction to who I'm naturally attracted to and feelings are not real.

Kurt obviously must believe in feelings.

The next thing that came out my mouth was totally unexpected, "Can I have your number?"

"S—Sure," Kurt stuttered awkwardly. Before I knew it I was reaching for my phone and telling him to add himself to my contacts.

Why did I do that?

I don't even know if he is going to be a student at Dalton. He obviously has some sort of problems other than the facts that he is gay and bullied constantly. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I can't be gay. So why do I want his number?

After recommending Kurt to "take it easy" and saying a final good-bye to mom, I headed back to Dalton with Kurt's number in my phone.

That was weird.

Straight guys can text and be friends with gay guys, right?

…

I haven't heard from Kurt in two days after that.

It could be because I didn't text him at all but I felt weird doing that. I was also hoping he would enroll in Dalton and I could see him soon but there has been no sign of that either.

After a full day of classes, I was standing outside the gates of Dalton Academy waiting for Vanessa to arrive for us to spend the day together.

I don't want to see her today.

It's not that I hate her I just hate what she _is_ to me; a girlfriend. I don't want a girlfriend. It's weird. How come taken people speak of relationships as "loving" and "happy" things? How come when I'm in a relationship it's just awkward and weird?

"Hey baby!" I heard a nasally voice call from behind me. Ugh, that's her.

I forced a smile before turning around to face Vanessa.

Oh god.

She was wearing the most reveling outfit I have ever seen her in: cheer shorts and a tank top. I embraced myself for what happened next. She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a deep kiss.

I hate the deep kisses.

When we share short kisses they are over and done with, but with deep kisses I actually have to kiss her back and make an occasional noise to let her know I'm "enjoying" it. I made a mistake of not doing that at first and then there was a nasty argument.

She moaned when she slipped her tongue into my mouth. This is weird, this is so weird. Thankfully she pulled away and rested her hands on my chest.

"Let's go somewhere," she said breathlessly and kissed my cheek. "Where do you want to go?"

Honestly, I want to go back inside.

"Wherever you want to go." I shot her a fake smile and placed my hands on her lower back.

A twinkle formed in her brown eyes as well as a wide smile. How come her eyes don't capture my attention like Kurt's does? Two days ago I just wanted to get _lost_ in his eyes. But her eyes are just normal, plain eyes.

I should be attracted to my girlfriend not to a _boy_ of all people.

"Let's go to my parent's cabin. It's only two miles from here," she suggested seductively.

Ugh, not again. Every time we go to her parent's cabin she wants us to…_do_ things. It is also pretty embarrassing when she is getting all hot and bothered and I can't even get Blaine Junior to harden up a little.

"Okay," I smirked anyway.

If I don't do what she says she gets mad. So I just do it.

The ride to the cabin was uncomfortable to say the least. While one of her hands was on the wheel the other was constantly rubbing my thigh, occasionally brushing over my groin which I had to pretend turned me on.

That is also entirely unsafe. A person should have both hands on the wheel at all times. I silently groaned when we approached the cabin.

Here goes nothing, literally nothing.

After she hurriedly un-locked the cabin door and then re-locked it once, she led me to the couch and pushed me down to sit. I faked an excited smirk as she straddled my legs. Her tank top collar was starting to reveal too much cleavage as she leaned down with a smile.

I tried to look away but the last time I did that she didn't like it.

Her mouth was on mine in an instant, then her tongue in my mouth an instant later. I tried to get hard, I really did. Nothing was working. I thought of every sexy thing that guys usually think of.

She moved lower and began to suck on my neck.

"What do you want, baby?" she murmured.

For you to get off me.

But what I really want is to figure out why I'm such a dull person when it comes to relationships.

"What do _you_ want?" I asked her.

"Nuh-uh this is all you." she breathed on my ear and un-buttoned my shirt.

Oh god no. This is going too fast. I reached up my hands to try to gently push her off but she mistaken my actions and pressed my hands on her breasts to grope then.

So I sort of freaked out and jumped off the couch causing Vanessa to fall on the floor.

"What is your problem?!" She screamed, fixing her shirt.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I—I just freaked out!" I ran behind the couch and began to button-up my shirt.

She began to stare at me like I was insane. "You _always_ freak out. You barely let me touch you, you don't ever get hard, you seem…_hesitant_ when you touch me…" She began to trail off then gasped and looked at me carefully.

"What?" I asked agitatedly.

"Are you gay?" she asked quietly.

"No! I am _not_ gay!" I immediately responded. Why do people ask me that?

Vanessa shook her head clearly not accepting my defense. "Are you sure? I see the way you look at your roommate sometimes."

"Who, Brent?" I almost laughed. How could a gay man even be attracted to someone like Brent? And if I give him any look, I give him the look of disgust from the way he styles his hair and cleans his side of the dorm.

"Yeah, _he's_ gay you know." Vanessa nodded.

My eyes were wide in unbelief. "…he is?"

"Yes he just doesn't…broadcast it."

Wow. I need to talk to him later about that. I shook that off remembering the issue at hand. "Vanessa I'm _sorry_. I'm just not ready for all this sexual stuff, okay? I am not gay but I just…I want us to take this slow," I almost begged to her. I honestly didn't know what else to say for her to drop this "gay" thing.

"We've been taking it slow for three _months_," she stressed.

"No we haven't. We make out from time to time," I argued pathetically.

Vanessa put her knees up on the couch's cushions to get closer to me as I stood my ground from behind the couch. She looked up at me with a confused and worried expression.

"Don't you want to know how it feels like? To have my hands on you making you feel good? I just want you to feel good," she said softly taking my hands.

I smiled at her sudden kindness and gripped her hands gently. "I—I know but…not right now it's…weird for me."

"Because I'm a girl," she stated.

"Because I'm not _ready_. Don't ever bring up that I'm gay again." My voice began to rise to her and she immediately dropped my hands. I swallowed thickly. I'm beginning to sound like my father when I mentioned I might be gay to him. "Please," I begged.

Vanessa nodded, understanding why I desperately needed her to not bring this up. Just when I thought that this conversation was over with and we could resume to awkward romantic gestures, she looked at me with a different approach.

Her approach wasn't touchy girlfriend. It was just a friend. A friend who cared.

"Blaine you know you can tell me anything," she said.

I wanted to tell her how uncomfortable this is for me. How confused I am to why I cannot be attracted to someone I am naturally attracted to when fact is fact. But I can't. This relationship is too important to my parents.

"I'm telling you I'm not gay or ready for this. Let's just drop it," I said.

I could tell she wasn't happy with my response but she decided to let it go. She persuaded me to sit on the couch with her while we watched one of our favorite sitcoms in silence except for the occasional laughter on a funny joke.

"Why don't we go have fun tonight?" she turned to me and asked with a lit up smile.

"Okay, what?" I grinned at her.

"Let's go bowling. You love bowling and we haven't gone in a long time."

That actually did sound fun. My first date with Vanessa was at the bowling alley. It was fun because it felt like two friends with no expectations, until she wanted me to kiss her good-night. That was weird.

…

Westerville Bowling Alley was surprisingly not so busy on a Friday night. I quickly paid for Vanessa and me and began to glance around. There were some usual regulars I have talked with before and played a game or two with and then a few adult couples…then there was a group that catched my eye; a group of kids about Vanessa's age and mine that I've never seen here before.

There was also an open alley next to them.

"Want to join them?" Vanessa asked sweetly, reading my mind.

"Yeah let's do that," I said excitedly as we neared the group.

One was a blond girl in a cheerleader uniform with the words WMHS on the front. Another was a girl dressed in a reindeer sweater and knee high socks crossing her arms at an uninterested boy with a Mohawk. Then there was a quiet, dressed in black, Asian girl and an African-American girl dressed in different neon's with bold hoop earrings.

"Hello, I'm Blaine and this is my girlfriend Vanessa. You guys come here often?" I introduced politely.

The group looked me up and down and a smile appeared on their face. The girl with the reindeer sweater approached me and extended her arm.

"Rachel Berry. We're actually from Lima but our bowling alley was closed tonight. This is Mercedes Jones, Tina Cohen-Chang, Noah Puckerman—"

"Call me Puck."

"—and Britney Pierce," she shook my hand forcefully as she introduced me to her group.

"Why did you have to say our last names?" Mercedes groaned, stepping up beside Rachel.

"So you want to play against us?" Puck spoke up.

I glanced at Vanessa. She seemed to like the idea and nodded. So the seven of us played for dinner; if I lost, I bought the group of kids from Lima whatever they wanted after the game and vice-versa.

We were having a pretty good time. I haven't had this much fun in a long time. I thought that tonight was just going to be another awkward and boring night with Vanessa. But we were all goofing around and getting to know each other, as well as playing our asses off.

It was my turn and getting close to the end of the game. I stepped up and began to pick up the ball I picked out. It's a shiny blue one that I always pick out every time I come here. It's my favorite one.

I stood correct and began to focus on the pins and which way my body would move, when suddenly, my feet were being kicked out from under me and my ass hit the hard, wood, floor with a _thump!_

My favorite ball rolled into the gutter.

I looked up to see who had rudely made me lose my balance.

I looked up into the face of a tall, broad-shouldered boy, who had the same WMHS words on his letterman jacket as Britney's cheerleader uniform.

"Excuse me? Who do you think you are?" I quickly stood but stopped short. Literally, he's taller than me.

"Karofsky, leave him alone! Why are you here?" Mercedes rushed over to my side next to Vanessa.

"You think I don't know why you left the bowling alley in Lima? I just like to make you losers shake in your socks. Fortunately I've also found a new loser." The jock, Karofsky obviously, looked down at me with a smirk.

"I am _not_ a loser and neither are these guys. We started playing together and were having a good time until you decided to show up." I stood my ground.

"I thought Lima's bowling alley was closed…" Vanessa trailed off.

"Dude, I'm on the same team as you! Take this crap somewhere else!" Puck sighed.

Karofsky didn't bother to reply to Vanessa or Puck though. His cold eyes just stared into me, judging me; he then shook his head as he watched me flinch when Vanessa gripped my arm.

"You're hiding something," he stated.

"And you aren't? Every _bully_ has something to hide." I raised my eyebrows at him, challenging him.

"Enjoy your time here losers, there's a slushy awaiting each of you on Monday," Karofsky broadcasted before leaving the bowling alley.

I stood there with a tight look on my face as he walked away. The kids from Lima looked horrified and insecure. How can they let him push them around like this? Especially the Puck guy who is on the same football team as him apparently?

"You can't let him push you guys around like that," I told them.

The Asian, Tina, shook her head. "You don't know what he's capable of."

"I guarantee you that his bark is worse than his bite. He seems like an insecure boy lashing out." I shrugged as Vanessa nodded agreeing with me.

Mercedes seemed to flare up. "Then how did he attack my best friend and now he's in the hospital here? Talking to a psychiatrist and not leaving for 'research purposes'?" She stood three inches from my face.

I gasped.

Kurt.

Something grew inside of me. Maybe it was hate, anger, surprise, or all three. But now I wished I could go into that school to see what is happening to these students.


	2. Chapter 2: A Little Research

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews and follows! I'm glad this story has some good feedback! I've decided instead of personally responded to each of your reviews I will reply to each review's at the end of the following chapter. But if someone does come across this story later than others, you will get a personal reply. So this chapter is a little short than the first but the next chapter will really take the story off. We find out a little about Blaine's relationship with his parents and father in this chapter so happy reading!**

**Warning: Swearing, aftermath and effects of an alcoholic. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee. Fox, RIB, and the rest of its owners do. This is entirely for entertainment and fandom purposes.**

Facts Of The Heart

Chapter Two: A Little Research

…

After bowling that night, I convinced Vanessa to give me a peck on the lips before entering the house. I only board at Dalton during the week so on the weekends I go home. Truthfully, I would rather board at Dalton on _every_ day of the week. My parents and I aren't what you call close. Well, my dad and I aren't close but when mom is around the two of us there is a tensed silence where the three of us don't speak. So in conclusion, we aren't close.

As I walked to the front door, I could hear voices from inside—loud voices. I could recognize by the words and the tone of their voice that my parents were arguing loudly, which is something I am sadly accustomed to.

I opened and closed the front door quietly.

When I stepped inside the house, Mom and Dad's voices became so loud that it seemed like they were in the entrance with me, when in actuality, they were two rooms away from where the kitchen's light shone.

"All you do is drink! That's all you do! Maybe if you spent less time drinking and more time communicating, our only son wouldn't be distant from you!"

"It's not like I'm drunk all the time!"

"But you _do_ get drunk! You were drunk last night and it scared the hell out of me!"

"I have stress! I'm a professor and—"

"Don't blame your classes again! I have had it up to here with—"

That's all I chose to hear because from that moment on I rolled my eyes and treaded up the stairs to my bedroom. I knew what they were arguing about. Dad has a habit of never stepping into a room in the house without a beer in his hand. Sometimes he _does_ get drunk.

One time he tried to hit me.

I never talked to him face-to-face again.

Even though we live in the same home so our non-communication can be strange. He has tried to apologize but I say nothing to him. Ever since that moment I usually spend my weekend out or in my bedroom. He knows I don't want to see him and I think he quietly accepts that.

My mind automatically thought of Kurt's father: the friendly and kind man who sat in the hospital room beside his sleeping son. The man who watched over his son to make sure he is okay and safe. I almost scoffed out loud from my thoughts. My dad would never do that, I'm sure of it.

Then my mind thought of Kurt. I need to text him. Is he still in the hospital? Is he coping okay? I bit my lip thinking of a possible text greeting that doesn't make me sound like an ass for delaying to text him for so long.

Hey Kurt! It's Blaine from Dalton. How are you doing?

I shrugged, it seemed simple and sincere. I sent the text and suddenly a wide grin appeared on my face. I began to feel…_excited_ for him to text me back. Why am I feeling this? He's just my acquaintance. Not even a friend, an _acquaintance_.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts so I thankfully was able to forget about them.

"Who is it?" I asked coldly.

"It's your mom," the voice from the other side of the door answered.

"Come in," I called back and put my phone on silent as I placed it on the nightstand. She cautiously entered the room and sat by me on the bed. I arched my eyebrows at her as if to say 'what is it?' She looked hesitant and upset.

"He's sorry, you know," she started.

"I'm not talking to him," I stated.

"He _wants_ to talk to you," she stressed.

"If he really wanted to talk to me, he'd talk to me." I shrugged.

"He knows you don't want anything to do with him though."

"Then I guess our silence is simple." I shrugged again with a sarcastic smile. Mom sighed and shook her head before burying it in her hands.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that. I heard the door close and it was too late before I heard that stair squeak that your father always says he's going to fix but—"

"I've heard it before," I interrupted her poor apology.

"Heard _what_ before?" she shook her head at me confused.

"You and dad arguing, you don't have to apologize to me I'm used to it," I explained blankly.

Mom's upset expression on her face began to grow more upset by what I said. She looked away from me and stared at my bedroom door. "You _shouldn't_ be used to it," she said gravely.

I felt guilty for mom's frustration with dad but she shouldn't worry herself with this. There is nothing she can fix.

"But I am, just like I'm used to dad being an alcoholic for no apparent reason." She flinched at the word "alcoholic" and I let out a quiet sigh. I knew she had been debating with that word for dad I shouldn't just throw it around. "I don't understand why you won't leave him," I said slowly, afraid of upsetting her.

Instead of her becoming upset she just turned to look at me with a tired smile. "Blaine you don't leave a relationship because things get tough."

Tough? That's an understatement of what her and dad's relationship is. "I'm sure I'm not the only one he's tried to hit," I said angrily. She looked away again. "You shouldn't be with someone who hits you mom," I continued desperately. Even though she's distant most of the time, I love my mom and I just want her to be happy when I can't feel that way with someone.

"I didn't say he hit me," she quietly tried to offend herself.

"You don't have to. I _know_ you and I know dad, especially the new dad," I muttered.

"Sometimes no matter how hard you try to hate a person you just can't. Because you're in love with them," she said with another tired smile.

I was shocked.

"Y—you're in love with dad?" I stuttered.

I was astounded how anyone could love dad, especially now.

She chuckled. "Of course. Why do you think I married him?"

Love is not the only reason for marriage. I shrugged as a couple reasons came to mind. "Tradition? Family?"

Mom playfully hit my shoulder. "Stop it. Not everything is based around facts."

"You're a _psychologist_." I arched my eyebrow.

She nodded in agreement. "Yes and almost everything _is_ based around facts. But some things we just can't explain in textbook and definitions."

My mouth was agape. I have never heard mom say that before. Maybe now is my chance. She seems so sure about love and feelings and I seem so sure that something is just wrong with me in that department.

So I spoke up for once. "I wish I could feel that. I've never felt…in love with anyone." I shrugged insecurely.

Suddenly, my chest seemed lighter and I was almost sure that there was a little less tension between me and my mother at that moment—until she spoke again.

"But you have a girlfriend," she said simply. As if it is simple.

I threw my head back against the headboard as I thought of Vanessa. "She's okay. I just—I'm just not in _love_ with her like you are with dad. I don't feel anything," I strained.

Mom's eyebrows scrunched together as she took in the information to her. She seemed confused about all this. How do you think I feel?

"What about Hugh's daughter? Kathy? She was quite the looker," she said and smiled arching her eyebrows.

Hugh is one of dad's work friends. I met his daughter once at a fundraiser. Simply put, she was showing more breasts than a bra commercial and her eyes seemed to wear her whole compact of smoky eye shadow.

"You mean quite the hooker?" I remarked.

Mom almost snorted inelegantly. "Oh Blaine stop."

The room fell silent again as our laughter died down. When her smile faded and she looked at me rather intense I began to feel terrified. "You're serious? You've never felt…anything towards a girl?" she asked sincerely.

"I try mom I _really_ do. When I look at a girl I try to…picture kissing or holding her hand but nothing magical happens inside me," I said so desperately. I just don't want her to hate me. I don't want her to think I'm gay like Vanessa does.

"Magic doesn't exist, sweetheart." she smiled.

I sighed. "You know what I mean. I don't develop feelings even though I _do_ try."

A smile formed on her face as she began to study the desperateness and frustration on my face. It wasn't a cheerful smile though; it almost seemed like a…knowing smile. She knew something about me—and I wish she would tell me because I'm completely frustrated with myself.

All she did is hold my hand and silently communicate me with that smile. It eased my frustration a little but it immediately came back when we both heard stumbling footstep and a loud shout.

"Melanie! Get out here! I need to talk to you!"

Worry spread over mom's face and she dropped my hand. I was worried for her but there is no way I am leaving this mom.

She walked towards my bedroom door slowly obviously not wanting to speak to him.

I wanted to say something helpful so I did.

"Have courage mom."

…

I don't think that anything too bad happened to mom Saturday night. I did hear continuous shouting as I texted Kurt and fell asleep that night but that's nothing new. I worried myself to sleep over my parents that night and prayed to some unknown deity that something positive might happen for us to become a real family. I prayed hard until frustrated tears came to my eyes. Then I eventually worried myself to sleep.

So maybe I didn't text Vanessa Saturday night because I was too upset and my phone was occupied with texting Kurt. Maybe I also didn't text her but three times yesterday.

Monday became the most shocking day for me. The events that took place is what I least expected to occur. I left early in the morning for my first class so I left a note for mom on the counter saying I will contact her later after classes are over. I, of course, didn't leave anything for dad.

I never do.

After my last class of the day, and before Warbler practice, I was in my dorm ignoring Vanessa's constant texts and going over sheet music when Brent rudely barged into the room and plopped onto his bed.

I jumped when he suddenly entered as I held my hand to my chest and breathed heavily.

"Brent!" I screamed.

"What? It's my dorm too," he said casually as he switched the TV on.

"I could have been _naked_," I pathetically argued.

"Nothing I haven't seen before dude," Brent laughed.

_Now's your chance _my conscious seemed to tell me. _He just made a slightly inappropriate remark about his sexuality._

"Can I talk to you about something?" I asked nervously.

"Don't you have Warbler practice?" he asked back uninterested as his eyes seemed to be glued to the screen.

"I'm leaving here in ten minutes and this shouldn't take long," I explained.

"Fine, go ahead." He shrugged a shoulder.

"Without ESPN in the background?" I groaned.

Brent sighed and switched the TV off. "Fine, talk," he groaned.

Here it is. The awkward moment I will never be able to forget. I practiced what I would say to Brent immediately after Vanessa's confession but right now I was frozen. Brent noticed my muteness and confusion began to spread across his face as I continued to say nothing.

I was surprised when I was finally able to speak words.

"Okay first of all, this is just something I heard and it's very personal so if you want to slap me after I ask you—"

"Just _ask_. I'm blunt so I don't care if you are," Brent interrupted and rolled his eyes.

I sighed and sat on my bed which is only a few feet away from his. I swallowed a lump in my throat and for once just asked, without thinking of the consequences.

"Are you…a homosexual?" I asked cautiously.

Brent's eyebrows rose. "You mean gay?"

Then mine rose. "Isn't that what a homosexual is..." my voice trailed off.

"Yeah it's just a technical term is all," he said nonchalantly as he shrugged.

"How you get good grades in English is beyond me…" I said mostly to myself.

"Who told you? Vanessa?" he questioned me.

I'm not a person to rat another person out. I wanted no harm to come to Vanessa so I didn't exactly tell him who supplied me with the information.

"It could have been."

After a moment or two of uncomfortable silence, Brent answered my question:

"I am. I have a boyfriend too, his name is Justin. That's him right here." Brent took out his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a picture of the two of them.

Justin has blond shaggy hair and blue-grey eyes. His eyes were a nice color, they were nothing compared to Kurt's though.

I immediately recognized this picture. I saw this picture on my first day of being Brent's roommate—on accident of course.

"When I first saw this picture you pulled it from my hand and told me to never go through your stuff."

Brent nodded as he remembered that day as well. "It's just not something I broadcast, you know? I only tell people I'm close to."

That made me smile. I never thought Brent and I were close, just polar opposite roommates.

"Is there a reason why you don't broadcast that you're…gay?"

I'm still uncomfortable using that word. I don't know why.

"I don't want people to treat me differently. This isn't San Fran or NYC; people don't treat you like a normal person when you just happen to be attracted to the same sex. I want friends' not dirty looks."

I nodded. Ohio is famous for its dirty looks for homosexuals. So is my dad.

"I see. I wouldn't treat you that way," I said quietly.

"So you know other people who are gay then?" he assumed.

Kurt. I think he's the only one I know who is. "Yeah, I do, a friend of mine."

I blushed as I referred to Kurt as a friend after a day or two of texting him. Why am I blushing? Is it not weird to blush when a straight guy thinks about a gay guy?

Yeah, it's a little weird.

Brent must have noticed my blush because he asked me a daunting question.

"Are…you gay?" he asked carefully.

I wanted to scoff. I have spent most of my childhood and early teens trying to think of a solution to that. But I decided to answer his question with as much truth as I could possibly gather.

"I don't think so."

Brent shook his head. "You don't have to think. If you like guys, then you like guys."

It's not that simple.

"But…I'm _supposed_ to like girls," I stressed.

"So am I but that didn't happen to be the case," he chuckled.

"I just…you're a smart guy in Science, right? How can—there's just no proper explanation for a gay person to me, no offense. I just don't understand and I _want_ to. I want to understand."

Brent nodded as he sensed my desperation. "When I look at a girl I can't see myself as being a boyfriend to her. But when I look at a boy, I can. It's—it's a feeling you get when you start to like somebody and it depends on what gender to how you're attracted."

"I—I can't believe that if there aren't any facts for backing it up." I shrugged.

"You can't base your life on facts," he said simply.

I shook my head at that. "Life _is_ facts. Our universe is and how we breathe and function as a human is all facts."

Brent stood up and sat by me on my bed. His voice grew quieter and I knew his next statement had to be partly true. "All I know is there _isn't_ a scientific textbook out there for how people with different sexualities and how people fall in love. If you find one, then give it to me."

"So you're saying it just happens? And there's nothing you can do about it?" I asked terrified.

He shrugged a shoulder without answering. "You can't help who you are or who you like. All I ask is that you educate yourself."

"How can I educate myself when there isn't proof on this?" I asked irritated.

Brent walked over to his calendar and flipped the current month's page up and a smile appeared on his face.

"I'm going to a PFLAG convention next month with Justin. Care to join me?"

Whoa.

PFLAG?

That isn't what I think it is, is it?

"PFLAG? Please don't tell me gay people pee on flags…" I trailed off.

Brent snorted. "It stands for Parents and Friend of Lesbians and Gays. You're my _friend_ and you can invite your gay friend too." That doesn't sound so bad. I began to feel excited of Kurt and me going somewhere together…"But if you're uncomfortable—"

"I'll go," I interrupted. "I should go."

Brent smiled satisfied with my answer. "Good, like you should get going to Warbler practice?"

I looked at the time.

Crap. That took 11 minutes.

"Ugh, here comes the lecture from Wes and his gavel again…"

After Warbler practice, the Dean from the school was apparently looking for me. As soon as I left our personal room, students began to pull me to the side and tell me to find Dr. Johnson. I groaned and began to look for him.

What could he possibly want from me? Something with spokesperson needs I assume? I paced beside the Dalton grand staircase and entered into a separate hallway.

We happened to meet in a hallway and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

"Blaine! I need to talk with you!" he announced

"Hi Dr. Johnson, what is this about?" I asked when I neared him.

"_You_ are outstanding. You went out of you way to speak about our school with psychiatric patients. Great job, kid."

"Thanks Mr. Johnson that's very kind—"

"You need to speak with our newest student," he stated.

My eyebrows rose in suspicion. He patted me on the shoulder and instructed me to follow him to his office. This can't be Kurt can it? It can't be… has he enrolled? Is he not in the hospital anymore?

When Dr. Johnson led me in his giant office lined with oak-wooden furniture and leather seats, I saw a boy in a Dalton uniform with his back turned to the door. Dr. Johnson sat in his office chair and pointed at me for the sitting boy.

The boy turned around in his seat and I saw his face.

I saw his eyes.

It's Kurt.

Review replies from Chapter One:

Klainelover: Thank you. I do plan to continue!

GleekyPatronusWolfyStarkid: Thank you! Enjoy the update! Another one coming soon.

DarrenCrissIsPerfection: Wow I'm glad you enjoy it so much. By the way, I totally agree with your pen name! haha

Ffacowgirl89: Thank you!

**Don't forget to review if you like the story! I love feedback! Coming up next: Why Kurt is in Dalton, more back story of Blaine's father's addiction, also Blaine's mixed feelings with his new found friendship with Kurt.**


	3. Chapter 3: A Negative Stimulus?

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long! Finals have been coming up and I'm directing this play and practicing songs for a recital…So many things. Sorry if there are any typos or grammatical errors but I was really trying to get this whole chapter finished… But here is chapter three so enjoy!**

Facts Of The Heart

Chapter Three: A Negative Stimulus?

...

"Kurt?"

I was surprised to see Kurt in the Dean's office here at Dalton. But as surprised as I was to see him here, out of a hospital gown and in our customary uniform, I was also excited. I haven't seen him since the day I first met him and we have just been texting on and off. But seeing Kurt's face again created excitement in me for some reason.

"Hi, Blaine," he breathed out with an equal excited face.

Dr. Johnson stood there behind his desk with a grin plastered on his face as I stood a couple feet from Kurt speechless. I have been hoping Kurt would enroll soon and seeing Kurt here, in our uniform, knowing he will be here and be safe…caused me to not form sentences together.

"So…are you enrolling in Dalton then?" I asked the obvious question.

Kurt nodded eagerly. "Yes I am. I am living in the dorms with a…Wes Lang on floor three," he replied looking down at a paper settled in his lap.

That made me even happier. Now I know that Kurt will be a roommate with someone I personally know and trust.

Even better, Brent and I are on that floor.

"I know Wes! I also dorm on that floor!" I exclaimed, trying to keep my voice at a controlled level.

"Kurt will be moving in this weekend. Could you show him to his room and go over the rules?" Dr. Johnson finally spoke up, revealing the reason he brought me into his large office with Kurt. I collected myself and gave Dr. Johnson a respectful nod. "Yes sir. I will. Come on Kurt."

I took Kurt by the hand, for some unknown reason, and led him outside of the academic building. Why am I holding his hand? He's a boy and I am a boy. It should feel weird and strange and completely awkward—kind of like how it is when I hold hands with Vanessa. But it's not. The more I hold this hand, I like it.

I like holding Kurt's hand.

_Why_ do I like it? There should be an answer to that. But then I look at Kurt's face and it has a slight blush and his lips spread into a sweet little smile. I shake off the logical questions and just do it. Just hold Kurt's hand and take him to the dorms. There should be nothing weird about this.

But facts say differently.

We take the elevator to floor three and the floor looks too familiar to me. It's the floor I leave every morning for classes or going home and the floor I return to after the last class of the day or after Warbler practice. This floor is filled with the familiar floor, walls, occasional pictures, and doors. But I look over and there is someone new beside me and he has a nervous and wondering look on his face.

Suddenly nothing is familiar anymore.

"So your room is 3D right?" I asked Kurt, walking up to the door labeled 3D with a gold, cursive, trim.

"Yes…" Kurt replied slowly as he looked at me suspiciously.

"I just know because Wes lives right across Brent and me. I'm in room 3C right there," I affirmed to Kurt, turning around and pointing out the dorm that I stay in.

Kurt showed me another smile and nodded. Then the two of us stood at the front of room 3D silent for a bit until Kurt spoke up.

"So is Wes here?"

"Probably not, he's probably still in the music room going over his notes… You can use your key."

"Oh, yes I can," Kurt chuckled and pulled out his dorm key from his right-front jeans pocket. I watched him as he unlocked the room and casually strode inside.

The room was in fact empty. Empty of Wes, that is. I followed Kurt inside and showed him around the room.

"This is Wes' bed so your side of the room will be the far side. The bed by the window."

"Oh, does it have a nice view?" Kurt smiled.

"Not really, just a parking lot." I shrugged.

"I showed the paper to my dad and he decided we could make ends meet so…he enrolled me here as soon as I was released from the hospital," Kurt decided to tell me; clearing up one of the questions I had on my mind.

"I'm sorry your family is struggling for you to come here. The tuition _is_ kind of steep…" I trailed off as I felt sorry for Kurt's family. His dad seemed so nice.

"I feel bad too but my dad says my safety comes first so…" Kurt trailed off as well as he sat on the bed that would become his.

"Kurt, can I ask you a question?" I asked carefully.

"Sure." he shrugged.

I sat on his bed on the other side so there was a safe distance between us. I needed to ask him this for some reason. My mind could not rest until I knew the answer to this. I can't stop thinking about this question and I don't know _why_.

"I know you were upset when I first met you and I haven't brought it up since so…why were you on the research floor? Why did they move you there from the ER?"

Kurt's happy, chipper, mood changed instantly. His face fell and his voice grew quieter.

"I don't want to talk about this, please." He looked at me with desperate, blue eyes. I couldn't understand why this question makes him upset and emotional. It's a simple question, is it not?

"It's just a question. I'm curious is all." I shrugged innocently.

For a split second Kurt's amazing eyes began to grow wide and then to my complete astound, he screamed, "I don't want to talk about it! I don't know much about you and this is really personal so can you please respect that?!"

Once again, I was speechless.

I haven't known Kurt very long but he didn't come across to me as a boy who will easily scream or snap at someone. He was always so soft spoken and sweet.

"S—Sure," I managed to get out. I breathed out and finally managed to produce thoughts together before apologizing to him. "I am so sorry Kurt I—I didn't know this was that personal to you—"

"Well it is," he interrupted me grimly.

I swallowed instantly feeling guilty. "I am really sorry; of _course_ I'll respect your privacy. I won't bring it up again, I promise."

Kurt breathed out what sounded like a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I'm sorry for snapping. Sometimes when I get scared…I don't know what to do and I'll just snap," he confessed quietly.

My eyebrows scrunched together hearing that. "Why are you scared? Do I scare you?"

"No," he said instantly then his voice grew quieter before adding, "Just your question."

I honestly had no clue that a question I thought was simple could scare him so much. I wanted to know why but I definitely don't want to make him uncomfortable or disrespect his privacy towards the situation.

I shook my head at his apology. "You don't need to apologize. If you're uncomfortable with it then I shouldn't be a jerk about it."

He offered me a soft smile. "If only there were more guys out there like you."

My eyes felt like they were coming out of their sockets. Does Kurt…he doesn't _like_ me, could he? It's just a—a compliment. He's saying that I'm respectful and there are not many guys like me. That's it, right?

I cleared my throat, going to professional mode. "Listen, I should probably tell you the standard rules of Dalton. You can only dorm on week days unless there is a weather hazard, curfew is 10 on week days and 10:30 on Fridays, if you make a C you have to re-take the test or do extracurricular activity to make up for it, and no weapons, cigarettes, alcohol, or girls on campus…I think that's everything."

"Okay, sounds reasonable." Kurt nodded.

"It is." I wanted to leave but I felt like I wanted to say more to him and I knew he had more to say to me. "You'll be happier here, I swear. I'll make sure of it," I promised to him.

"You are the nicest boy I've ever met," Kurt confessed shyly.

I knew he wasn't flirting; he was so shy about what he said. I gave him a comforting smile and lifted a shoulder.

"I try to be."

I stood up and began to walk to the front door before turning around. "So will I see you at the breakfast cafeteria in the morning?"

"Breakfast cafeteria?" Kurt's light brown eyebrows rose.

"Yeah it's on the first floor of this building. Ask Wes for a map when he comes back, he has like ten of them." I shook my head.

"Is it free?"

"Yes it's included in the tuition." I nodded.

"Then I'll be there." He smiled.

"Alright, see you later, Kurt. Take care," I started to the door.

"You too, Blaine!" I heard him call out after me.

I glanced at Kurt one last time before leaving his dorm. He seemed sad. I wanted to go back and say something to make him smile but I didn't know what to do. I don't even know why he's sad. I closed the door behind me to see Wes walking up to me.

"Did you get confused which dorm is yours again, Anderson?" Wes chuckled.

"Nope, I was introducing your new roommate to the dorms," I slyly grinned.

"My new roommate?" Wes' eyebrows rose interested.

"Yes, his name is Kurt Hummel. He's kind of…emotionally fragile so don't say anything to scare him or set him off and make him feel welcome. If you don't, I'll hear about it."

…

The following school day, Tuesday, if it was possible I was more excited than I was yesterday. Kurt joined me and the fellow Warblers for breakfast, feeling a little out of place, and then he sat by me in the first class of the day, English Composition.

He opened up his folder when Mr. Bailey entered and before he could flip to an empty page, I saw a drawing on the first page. It wasn't just a doodle though. It looked like an outfit that was sketched very well.

"Hey, what's that?" I asked Kurt out of curiosity, pointing to the page.

Kurt blushed and tried to turn the page but my finger was pressed on the page, causing too much weight for him.

"It—it's nothing just—just a doodle," he muttered.

"Did…did _you_ do this?" I asked quietly. He nodded, avoiding eye-contact.

"It's amazing," I stated honestly. He looked at me with such shock and gratefulness that I wanted to reach over and hug the poor boy.

"You think so?" he asked insecurely.

"Of course. Well, _I_ wouldn't wear it but I can't deny that it would look amazing on someone with great fashion taste." I grinned at him.

"I can't believe you. No one has ever said anything nice about my sketches. Sometimes the boys at my school try to throw them away."

"Why would they do that? This is some great stuff here."

"They don't appreciate accomplishments a boy does unless it has boobs on it," Kurt replied with a shrug.

I snorted. This guy is pretty funny. He's funny, talented, sweet, has amazing eyes…what else is there to Kurt that I don't know about? But sadly I couldn't get out another word before Mr. Bailey greeted the class and proceeded with role.

Throughout the school day, whenever Kurt and I shared a class, we always sat together—even if it wasn't my usual spot in that class. I don't care I'll find a new spot, as long as I get to sit next to Kurt. There is something about Kurt where I just want to be near to him.

I want to talk with him and share our interests and opinions on things. I want to get to know him and build a relationship with him. But sometimes when he speaks it's so hard to listen to what he's saying, even if it's really interesting. Because when I look at his expressive, always-color-changing eyes, everything else becomes mute.

I know it may seem impossible but his eyes are so captivating. They are _eyes_ I don't know what the big fuss is about. Nevertheless, they are still captivating to me.

After Warbler practice that day, a group of us Warblers were gathered in the trio—a quiet student hang out spot outside—when I noticed Kurt sitting to himself on a wooden bench. Being it was fall; we were hugging our blazers close to our bodies and sitting cross-legged on the ground knee-to-knee. None of us wanted to start on homework for another hour so we decided to go to the Trio to just be outside and talk before winter comes and the cold is too much to bear.

We were in a casual conversation when I looked over and noticed Kurt had a book in his hand and lost in thought.

"Kurt!" I called out to him.

It took him a couple of seconds before he looked up from his book and to my direction. He smiled when he saw me and waved.

"Come join us!" I invited and a few of the Warblers nodded in agreement. He gave us a short nod and folded his page down. I motioned for Nick and Lance to move over so Kurt could sit by me. The two rolled their eyes but moved over for Kurt anyhow.

"Hey boys," Kurt greeted and gave me a slight smile as he sat beside me knee-to-knee.

"You guys remember Kurt from breakfast don't you?" I reminded them.

They all nodded politely and said hello to Kurt before they continued with their previous conversation. I wasn't interested anymore so I started my own with Kurt.

"So what were you reading?" I gave him a slight nudge in the side.

"Pride and Prejudice, for English," he replied with a frown.

"Oh I should probably start on that too. How far have you got?" I turned and looked at him with interest.

Kurt looked down and flipped through the first pages. "About half of the first chapter, until you interrupted me that is," he finished with a sly little smile.

I chuckled back to him. "So what has happened so far?"

He shook his head. "Nope. You have to read to yourself. You're not getting your notes from me."

"No fair," I playfully wined as I leaned my body towards his.

"Neither is life." He leaned back.

Suddenly, Jake un-zipped his backpack and pulled an item out from it as he listened to Nick ramble on about his latest girlfriend.

I look closely and see what the item is.

A bottle of beer.

I feel myself grow tense from deep inside my stomach. My jaws feel tight and I immediately cannot hear another word from Kurt or any of the Warblers. I know what alcohol does. I see my dad with a bottle of beer every time I see him for a split-second.

Alcohol is not for teenagers to playing around with for fun.

It ruins families and is also deadly.

I don't want Jake drinking around me.

"Jake, could you please put that away?" I tried to ask nicely.

The group grew quiet. Jake looked at me and let out a little scoff.

"What's the problem, Anderson?" he twisted the bottle cap off and took a sip.

I closed my eyes and breathed in a deep breath before answering. "Alcohol isn't allowed on school grounds. Especially since you're a minor Jake—"

"Could you not push your spokesperson crap with me? I thought we were hanging out Blaine. Can you just relax?" Jake let out a chuckle. I looked at Kurt as I tried to control my temper. Kurt was just as shocked as me with Jake's sudden attitude.

"This isn't me the _spokesperson_ this is me. Can you please just—"

"Chill out dude. Don't tell me you haven't broken the school rules once or twice. I've seen Vanessa come here a time or two," Jake interrupted. My stomach turned when he mentioned her name. For some reason, I didn't want Kurt to know about her. I try to hide her existence when I'm with Kurt. It just makes things easier.

"Who's Vanessa?" Kurt asked quietly.

Ugh, shoot me now.

I decided to ignore Kurt's question and turn my attention to Jake as he continued to sip on the alcohol. "I'm uncomfortable with it. If you don't put the beer away I'm leaving," I threatened him and Kurt and some of my fellow Warblers looked at me wide-eyed—except for Jake.

He sighed, "I've had to go sober _all_ morning during class. I'm not putting it away."

Everyone suddenly looked at me but I am sticking to my threat to Jake. I gave him a simple shrug. "Then I'm leaving. Sorry, Kurt," I said to Kurt and immediately withdrew myself from them.

I began to head towards the dorms when I heard footsteps close behind. I was a block close to the dorms when I decided to turn around to see who had followed me. I dreaded it was Jake looking for an argument but when I turned around I saw the confused face of Kurt Hummel.

"Blaine, what's wrong?" Kurt huffed out of breath from following me.

"What do you mean?" I shook my head.

"Why did you take off like that? Aren't these guys your friends?" he asked confused.

"I told him I'd leave if he didn't put it away," I reminded him simply.

Kurt's eyes began to stare into mine for a silent moment before he asked me another question: "Do you—do you have a problem with alcohol?" he stuttered.

"Do you _not_?" I asked bluntly.

Kurt was caught off guard with my sudden question. His thin eyebrows scrunched together as his shoulders dropped. "Not…to that _extent_, my dad drinks a beer with supper and it doesn't bother me but…getting drunk and going through seven beers a day does."

"Well all of it bothers me," I stated.

"How come?" he asked curiously.

I sighed. I shouldn't have to explain this to an innocent boy like Kurt. Surely through all of the bullying he's been through, he has been taught what is acceptable and what is not. "Kurt, alcohol is very dangerous. It's something minors can't play around with. Before you know it, things happen and become out of control and even death can come about. It's something that—"

"I know, Blaine. Don't lecture me," he interrupted me.

I was confused. He wanted to know why I don't like alcohol. I tell him and he tells me not to explain. "It bothers you so why can't you just tell me? I'm your friend I want to know," he added.

This isn't fair.

I've wanted to know what his problem is with the research floor and now I'm a bad friend because I can't tell him a problem of mine? He should respect my privacy as well.

I instantly shook my head. "No. You can't make me tell you my problem if you won't tell me why you were on the research floor."

He looked around when I mentioned the research floor. I assume it was for fellow Dalton students and he's embarrassed. His distress with the research floor seems so strange.

"That's personal it's different," he lowered his voice.

I took a step back from him. "So is this."

His eyes widened at that. I was ready to take off walking towards the dorm again before I added to Kurt, "We both have secrets to hide."

…

Okay, so maybe I was a bit too serious and up-tight with Kurt thirty minutes ago.

But this is a serious issue to me and extremely personal. I hope he's not upset with me. I feel so close to him even if we haven't known each other long.

I don't want to screw this up.

Maybe if I explain my privacy with this then he will understand. He wants privacy with his own situation so why would he not? Like I said before, we both have things we'd prefer hidden.

I looked over at Brent, passed out on his bed, before I left the room and walked a few steps to Wes' and Kurt's.

I took a deep breath before knocking.

No reply.

Come on Kurt, I'm here to apologize. I was about to knock again before I heard music from inside. I pressed my ear against the door to see if I could make out what the noise is.

_I want your love and I want your revenge_

_You and me could have a bad romance_

_Oh woah woah _

_Oh Oh Oh Oh_

_Caught in a bad romance_

Lady Gaga. I chuckled to myself. This must be Kurt's music. Wes wouldn't be caught dead listening to Lad y Gaga. Another reason I knew Kurt was listening to her is because I could hear him singing along.

Wes must not be here or he would have screamed at Kurt to use ear plugs.

Kurt probably can't hear the knocks so I eased the door open as the music and Kurt's singing continued. I peeked my head around the corner and what I saw was quite amusing.

Kurt was all around the room—dancing, shaking his hips, singing loudly. I couldn't believe my eyes. Then there was his voice.

His voice can be another item listed on things about Kurt that captivate me. His voice was so smooth, clear, amazing pitch…_captivating_. I can't think of any more words.

As much as I would have loved to hear him sing more, I do need to talk to him. Also, it is better for Kurt to get caught by me than Wes anyhow.

"Kurt!" I screamed.

He turned around and gasped. A blush appeared on his face and he suddenly remembered the music. He quickly turned his music off and looked at the floor.

"I should probably keep my music lower," he muttered.

"Don't apologize that was…_adorable_," I tried to look for the right words that fit what was going through my mind so why was adorable the word I went with?

A larger blush appeared on Kurt's face and I am pretty sure one was on mine as well. Did I just call a guy adorable? Oh god.

"I uh—I just wanted to apologize," I said awkwardly.

"For what?" Kurt asked as he neared closer to me from across the room.

"Being an ass earlier." I shrugged.

Kurt shook his head. "No you were right. I shouldn't question you when _I_ want privacy."

I liked how Kurt accepted my privacy but it was still wrong how I treated him. "I was still mean though," I insisted. Kurt gave me a little shake of the head and smile; a small gesture that affirmed me that I'm forgiven. "You have a great voice. Why don't you try out for the Warblers? We could really use a vocalist like you."

Another smile appeared on Kurt's face, a very bright, excited smile. "Well I was in my old school's Glee club..." he trailed off and his smile disappeared.

"Audition then! You'll be perfect! I'll speak with Wes in Algebra tomorrow and I'll get you an audition next week! Pick something good," I grinned back and Kurt nodded then crossed over to the mini kitchenette in the dorm.

He reached up to open a cabinet and then sighed sadly.

"What is it?" I asked curiously.

"Oh nothing. Out of coffee, I'll be dragging my feet into the breakfast cafeteria tomorrow," he chuckled.

Yet again, I said something that just came out of my mouth. Without thinking over the question first, I asked Kurt "Why don't we both get coffee in the morning?"

He turned around and offered me a shocked but yet happy look. "Really?"

Too late now. A coffee date between two guys…that can be friendly can't it? "Yeah there's this place close to Dalton. The Lima Bean. Do you want to meet me there at six?" I offered.

"I—my car's at home—"

"We live across from each other. We can take mine. If you want." I suddenly realized I interrupted what might have been an excuse from Kurt.

But Kurt nodded anyway. He must want to spend time with me, that's relieving. "Yes. Let's—let's do that."

"Okay, see you tomorrow!" I waved to Kurt before heading across the hall.

I hope I didn't just jump into something too deep.

Review Replies from Chapter Two

GleekyPatronusWolfyStarkid: Yes Blaine, you are gay dammit! Thank you, also happy Kurt is at Dalton!

Samsmythe118: Thank you! This chapter has a good bit of interaction!

Mrs. Evans-Overstreet: Thanks so much! Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

**A/N: Don't forget to review after reading! I love all of your feedback so I can reply to it! Coming up: Klaine coffee "date", Blaine trying to get Kurt into the Warblers, and the PFLAG convention! **


	4. Chapter 4: Not Psychological Therapy

**A/N: Apologies for the late chapter but I am not making any promises on updating a lot, I write in my free time and the next chapter **_**will**_** be uploaded, regardless of the lengthy time. Thank you for your patience and enjoy Chapter Four! Thank you for all the reviews! I love reading and replying to them! I have done a little proof and error but if there are any grammatical or spelling errors I have missed, I apologize. So here it is! **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee or its characters. Glee is owned by Fox, Ryan Murphy, and the rest of its rightful owners.**

**Warning: Small acts of bullying, mentioned of a deceased character.**

Facts Of The Heart

Chapter Four: Not Psychological Therapy

…

Why did I do this?

I should not have done this. Why did I invite a gay boy to have coffee with me? He doesn't even know that I'm straight, he may think this is a date…I don't want to go.

I have to I cannot stand him up. That's horrible and especially not to Kurt; I could never do that to him.

So I guess I'll have to just go then.

I checked my appearance once more in the mirror and glanced at Brent asleep before grabbing my keys and walking across the hall to Wes' and Kurt's.

I knocked three times and heard footsteps close to the door. The door opened and there appeared Kurt, in his uniform with his hair perfectly coiffed and a bright smile on his face.

"Ready to go?" I asked him and he nodded silently in reply.

"Nice car," Kurt complimented once we sat in my seats and I began to turn on my car's ignition.

"Thanks it's from the parents." I shrugged before shifting to reverse and pulling out of my parking place.

"Are your parents…well off?" Kurt asked carefully.

"You could say that," I replied shortly, hoping Kurt would realize I didn't want to talk about them.

"What do they do?" he asked anyway.

"My dad's a professor at the university and my mom is a psychiatrist," I answered as I pulled out of Dalton and on to the main road.

It took Kurt a few seconds before he said anything again. "Wow my dad's a…a mechanic," he said quietly.

"And your mom?" I asked casually.

"Um…I don't—I don't have a mom. Well, I _did_—"

"Oh Kurt I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked that." I felt like giving myself a slap in the face. I should have known he didn't bring up his mother for a reason.

"It's okay. You didn't know. It was a long time ago anyway. I was eight. Although I remember it like it was yesterday." Kurt shrugged a shoulder sadly as he mumbled the last part.

"Flashbulb memories," I told him.

"Excuse me?" Kurt blinked at me confused.

"Flashbulb memories. It's a memory that is so specific you can remember the time, date, what you were doing before it happened…A memory that's hard to forget," I clarified for him.

"Why?" Kurt asked curiously.

"Usually because of the emotions, if the memory was traumatic or is connected to you emotionally," I answered

"You know a lot about memory."

I shook my head modestly. "I didn't until my mom taught me. She taught me a lot."

"Yeah, my mom did too," Kurt agreed sadly.

I may regret asking this question, but I asked it anyway: "What did your mom teach you?"

Kurt gave a small sigh before answering. "Everything. How to sew, cook, sing, how to treat people… Even the ones that hurt you the most."

The rest of the ride to the Lima Bean was pretty quiet. I felt so bad for Kurt. If my mom died when I was eight and I was only left with my father, I would not know how to survive.

Kurt's father seems to be so much nicer than mine though so maybe it wasn't as bad as I think. But the way Kurt's bright, happy mood changed to sad and depressed from just speaking of his deceased mother…I knew it was hard for him.

Once we were inside, Kurt took a sniff of the place and sighed happily once he smelled the strong aroma of coffee beans.

"I love the smell of coffee shops," Kurt complimented as we stepped up to the counter.

"Me too, I love coffee."

Once Kurt and I ordered and sat at a small table near a window, I took one look at Kurt. The way he carries himself is amazing. Here is a boy who has been tormented and probably beated at his old school, a boy who came from a hard life and apparently has further problems I don't know about…and he is still so postured.

He sits upright with one leg crossed over the knee as he slowly sips his coffee.

It's astounding.

"What is it?" Kurt asked. Oh I must have been staring for too long.

I shook my head immediately. "Nothing I just—you admire me." I almost blushed saying those words about him out loud.

"I admire _you_?" Kurt look stunned.

"Yeah you're so…so confident and put together even…after everything you've been through," I explained as I watched him carefully as he kept his pose.

"I'm not confident," he said immediately as if he did not want to simply consider what I mentioned.

"Yes you are. I can see it in your posture and the—the way you carry yourself," I insisted.

"Well...I don't feel it." He shrugged.

"Your actions speak otherwise."

It was silent for a moment and I wanted to not look at Kurt because of the awkward tension I caused but he is so inspiring, so unbelievable, that from time to time I tried to sneak a glance at him. I don't know why I want to look at him. I see him every day.

"So why did you start going to Dalton?" Kurt eventually chose a conversation starter.

I frowned a little before I answered with a reply that is most believable. "Well my parents can afford it and with a name like Dalton on your transcript more doors open for colleges so…I started my freshman year."

Kurt looked at me with a smug little grin. "You're lying," he stated.

How did he know?

"Why do you think I'm lying?" I offered a small chuckle.

"It's a gift I have and I don't think, I know. It's part of the gift," Kurt joked as he shrugged a shoulder.

I breathed in a nervous breathe before answering truthfully. "Okay…Dalton is the closest boarding school to my house. I wanted to go to a boarding school. I knew my parents could afford it and I know students spend more time at the school than at their house. I basically told my parents the excuse I told you and they—they believed me."

"You don't like your house?" Kurt pushed.

I bit my lip before answering carefully. "Well…my father and I had a—something happened between us and I just needed to get away. Dalton was the perfect plan."

"I couldn't imagine life without my dad. One of my cons with enrolling here was not being able to see him that much."

"See I _wish_ I had the relationship with my father that you have with yours." I leaned forward on our shared table as I became more interested in Kurt than the coffee I was drinking.

"You never have?" Kurt asked in disbelief.

"Well maybe when I was _five_. But people change." I shrugged.

"So enough of our parents, you like to sing being in the Warblers, right?" Kurt leaned forward as well but with his posture still…graceful even with his legs still crossed and not looking too slouched.

"Did I tell you I was in the Warblers?" I asked, remembering our earlier conversations. I remember telling him to join, and I'd talk to Wes about an audition, but I never told him _I_ am in the Warblers.

"No, the Dean did. He said you're the lead singer." Kurt smirked playfully.

I almost blushed at the way Kurt talked about me. "Yes I _do_ love to sing."

I tilted my chin up as my mind drifted back to my first memory of music and how it all began.

I felt in a different world and happier when I started to tell Kurt about my experience with music.

"When I was six I started to play the piano. It was hard but every time I played I just escaped into a different world and the music…soothed me and even understood me if that makes sense. It was just me and the music. I started to match my voice with the notes I would hit so I eventually joined my old _middle_ school's glee club."

"What was that like?" Kurt asked interested.

I shook my head and laughed. "We sucked." Kurt let out a loud laugh that I instantly loved even as I continued. "But at our first assembly…I still remember the feeling…I felt like it was just me, like everyone was there to see me sing, and I never felt so alive and happy than I was when I performed for the first time." I smiled at him.

Kurt nodded in agreement before sharing. "It does feel amazing. I remember my first time performing. My first glee club performance was a little horrifying but my _first_ time to perform was at a recital I had when I was eight, I was the only boy who could hit the high F," Kurt reminisced.

My eyebrows rose. "I bet you were amazing, what did you sing?"

"How do I live without you…it was a week after my mother's funeral," Kurt mumbled sadly.

Here comes the awkward tension again. It seems that every time I talk with Kurt, ask him questions and become interested, he brings up something sad that makes me want to slap myself.

"I'm sorry, that must have been horrible," I apologized again.

Kurt shook his head, ignoring my apology. "But not only was my voice carrying out the notes great but…I felt so much during that performance and I tried not to cry so it was very emotional. I guess my first performance could be the making of a Broadway star," he chuckled.

"You love Broadway?" A smile stretched across my face.

Kurt's amazing eyes seemed to light up as he heard my question. "Yes, I do. Do you?"

"I do, I love it! There's a local showing of Rent would you like to come with me?" I asked excitedly, completely unaware that I was asking Kurt to go with me somewhere else again.

"I would love to!"

From that moment on at the Lima Bean, Kurt and I had a great time. I feel like I'm getting to know this amazing person that I can't stop talking to. When I first met Kurt he seemed like a broken, fragile, scared person. But I've seen him dance around a room and sing, laugh, joke playfully…and he's so inspiring.

I could see myself become fast friends with Kurt.

I try not to look at his eyes too much.

It feels like when I was little again, crushing on a boy at seven years old, and then my father slapped my face and yelled at me. I feel like I felt when all I could think about was holding that boy's hand.

Kurt's eyes are beautiful. If I look at them too much my train of thought escapes. I know it's insane to think that way about someone's eyesight source but it's not just the color. It's what I can see in them, I can see hurt, pain, love, innocence, and creativity…but the list could go on.

…

"Wes, just listen to me. Kurt will be a great addition to the Warblers—"

"Class is about to start. Can you beg later?"

I was in second period, my first class with Wes, a little later that morning at Dalton. Kurt doesn't take this class since it is Honors Trigonometry, so I thought it would be the perfect class to sit by Wes and basically beg him to let Kurt into the Warblers.

"This is more important," I insisted.

"And class isn't?" Wes insisted as well, double-checking and maybe even triple-checking his homework sheet that is due this morning.

I groaned, "Dr. Gregory isn't even here yet and it's only five minutes until it starts. You know he doesn't start until 10 minutes after the scheduled time."

Wes closed the book on his homework sheet and gave me his full attention. "Fine, Blaine! I can't _let_ Kurt into the Warblers. Auditioning is tradition for any glee club, _everywhere_."

I could not believe how little Wes knows about Kurt. There are roommates after all. "Do you ever talk to Kurt? Do you know what he has been through?" I questioned him.

Wes shrugged as an ashamed look spread across his face. "Not… a lot," he mumbled.

"Kurt _loves_ to sing, he loves _performing_, and he was in his old high school's Glee club. The Warblers will be a great creative outlet for him and a friendly support group so he doesn't feel so alone here," I explained to him but Wes just shook his head once more.

"I think it's nice that you want to help out your new friend so much but the Warblers aren't psychological therapy. It's a competitive singing group. We need the best of the best in this school to win Regionals. I can't just _let_ him in."

I sighed, "Then set up an audition. After you hear him sing, I promise, you'll regret this whole conversation. When he was eight he hit a high F."

Wes's head struck up in interest. We don't have a member in the Warblers who can hit that high. "He's a soprano?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "Apparently. Kurt has an amazing voice, he'll blow you away. Please let him audition Wes," I continued to beg.

Wes smiled at me with a knowing smile. Almost like the smile that my mother shown me a few nights ago. He did not protest anymore. He just smiled.

"You really want him in the Warblers don't you?" he said with that smile on his face. Honestly, it was starting to freak me out.

"He needs the Warblers and we need him."

Wes nodded. "Fine, tomorrow in the music hall after seventh period. Tell him to pick something to show off his high voice."

"I will," I smirked. "You won't be disappointed."

Right as I was about to look at my pocket watch for the time, Wes started babbling again. "But _if_ I let him in the Warblers, based on his audition, he needs to realize what he's getting himself in to. We're competitive so you need to perform your therapy duties elsewhere."

Therapy duties?

"What are you talking about?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

Wes frowned before replying. "I know your mom teaches you a lot with her being a psychiatrist, and I know you feel sorry for Kurt, and I did agree to the audition but—"

"Are you saying that I'm be-friending Kurt for…for charity?" I interrupted him with a confused look on my face.

"Perhaps." Wes shrugged.

I scoffed. "I can't believe you. For three years of boarding here and being in the Warblers, I thought you'd know me better."

Wes shook his head as he began to point off the various reasons to stand behind his argument. "Blaine he told me this morning about you two having a coffee date this morning—"

"It wasn't a _date_, I'm straight," I insisted.

Wes shook his head once more. "Yeah whatever, and know you two are seeing a local showing of Rent together and now you want him to be in the Warblers with you?"

"Kurt and I are friends, this is not psychological therapy. We need him in the Warblers. Besides, don't you and David hang out all the time?" I questioned him.

Wes scoffed and shook his head. "David hasn't been through traumatic experiences _and_ he isn't gay."

Where is Wes getting at? What does Kurt being gay have to do with anything?

"What are you saying?" I asked again.

"Don't get Kurt's hopes up spending all this time with him because you feel sorry for him." Wes shrugged innocently.

"I do _not_—"

"Okay fine, friends whatever. But Kurt is a _single_, gay, man and here you are spending all this time with him and right now Kurt doesn't need any more heart break than what apparently has already happened to him."

This is where I draw the line. I am not going to be added to Kurt's list of heart breaks. "First of all Wes, Kurt is not desperate for dating anyone right now and second of all, can a gay boy and a straight boy be friends without judgment from anyone else? Kurt needs a friend right now, someone to help him. You obviously never speak to him and I find Kurt pleasant and enjoyable so therefore I will continue being his friend whether you like it or not." I smirked.

"You think Kurt is pleasant?" Wes let out a small laugh.

"Yes, I do."

"He screamed like a chimpanzee when I tried to touch the clothes in his dresser."

"So he has a compulsive disorder with his things, so what?" I shrugged innocently.

Wes shrugged a shoulder and smiled at me evilly. "True, you have a compulsive disorder with your hair."

"I do not—don't touch it, Wes! I actually take time to do something with it!" I batted his hand away as he tried to destroy my gelled part.

"Straight," Wes chuckled.

…

At lunch, Kurt was nowhere to be found.

I couldn't wait to tell him about his audition with the Warblers and see the look on his face but as soon as I got my food and went to our usual table, he wasn't there.

When I glanced around the cafeteria, I couldn't find Kurt anywhere.

I asked numerous people and some didn't even know who Kurt was. Some just shrugged and said they haven't seen him. Then I went to another table where Jake, who was sitting away from the Warblers, was sitting with a few other guys.

"Jake, have you seen Kurt?" I asked him.

He scoffed as well as all the boys laugh with him. This made me nervous, why are they laughing?

"Where's Kurt?" I demanded.

"Outside," Jake said between laughs as he managed to point to the double doors that led outside.

I ran outside with my tray of food and saw a tray of food on a nearby picnic table that I assumed was Kurt's so I laid mine there. I looked around and saw a boy crouched on the ground; he seemed to be gathering things.

My eyebrows furrowed as I neared closer.

It was Kurt; he was holding his sketch book and picking up different sketches from the ground.

"What are you doing, Kurt?" I asked him.

"Blaine, " he gasped then shook his head and picked up a sketch torn in half, trying to look for the other one. "I'm trying to find all the sketches that got ripped out," he grumbled angrily.

"Let me help you," I offered and took the sketch book from him. He smiled gratefully and together we finally found the missing pieces and the remainder of his sketches.

"What happened?" I asked him.

"I was eating lunch by myself when Jake came to sit by me. I was doodling when he took it from me and started to rip the sketches out and then in half, he threw the pieces outside and laughed at me as I went out to get them," Kurt sniffed.

"Why did he do that?" I wondered out loud to Kurt.

"I guess real boys don't doodle fashion in their free time," Kurt replied sarcastically with teary eyes.

"I'm talking to him let's go back inside and eat. It's cold out here," I said as I went to retrieve my tray.

"I don't want to go back in there. Can we eat out here?" Kurt asked miserably.

"Of course we can. It's a good thing we have on our blazers, huh?" I smiled at him and he let out a teary chuckle.

He began to eat in silence and I felt so horrible for him. I can't believe Jake humiliated him in-front of the whole cafeteria and did that to his amazing talent. I want to see that miserable look off his face and then I remember why I was looking for Kurt in the first place.

"I have good news for you," I said happily.

"What is it?" Kurt looked up from his salad.

"I got you an audition with the Warblers. It's tomorrow in the music hall after seventh period. Wes said to pick something to show off your high voice." I felt like a little kid bouncing on the balls of my feet telling him the news, I couldn't wait to see the happy look on his face.

Then there it was.

His eyes turned bright and happy and a wide grin spread across his face.

"Really?! Thanks so much Blaine, did you tell him I can reach a high F?"

"I did." I nodded enthusiastically.

Kurt went over to the other side of the picnic table where I sat and gave me a hug. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged the other boy back, breathing in his scent.

I don't know why, but I felt something…almost _flutter_ in my chest that doesn't happen when I hug Vanessa.

"I can't believe you would do that for me." Kurt pulled away and his smile remained.

"We're friends and the Warblers need you," I said simply as I shrugged a shoulder. Kurt shook his head modestly and blushed.

Then, just like that, his face fell. "Isn't Jake in the Warblers?"

"Don't worry about him. I told you I'd talk to him," I reassured him.

"Didn't you tell me at the hospital there is no bullying here, though?" Kurt questioned me.

"There is _supposed_ to be, yes. I'm submitting a bullying complaint to the Dean today; it will be on Jake's record. If he gets two more, he'll be banned, remember?"

"I remember." Kurt nodded and offered me a small smile.

I thought this would be a good time to invite Kurt to the PFLAG convention that Brent is making me come to. I opened my mouth and just as I was about to ask him, my cell phone vibrated. Kurt saw me close my mouth and take my phone out and he immediately sat on the other side of the table, thinking my cell phone is more important than him apparently.

It's Vanessa.

_Are you still alive? How come you didn't call me last night or text me this morning? I'm calling you in a couple hours and you better pick up._

I rolled my eyes.

"Who was that?" Kurt asked quietly.

"Um…one of my annoying friends," I answered pretty truthfully. Ignoring Vanessa's text, I re-opened my mouth and took a deep breath once more before asking Kurt.

"A couple days ago my roommate here asked me to go to a PFLAG convention with him next month and—do you know what that is? PFLAG?" I asked nervously. His head seemed to pop up as soon as I mentioned the word "PFLAG".

He stared at me with confused and amusing eyes. "Yes I know what it is. Why are you going? Wes told me you're straight."

"I—I am but its parents and _friends_ of lesbians and gays so…that's why I'm going." I shrugged.

"Oh. So you're going to support your roommate then?" Kurt shrugged a shoulder and turned his attention back to his food.

"Yeah and to—you know, to educate myself," I muttered. I'm not entirely sure how a person on facts can be educated with feelings to the same sex but of course I'm going anyway.

"Well that's good," Kurt whole-heartedly agreed.

"Anyway, I was _wondering_, if you'd like to come with me…" I asked slowly, anticipating Kurt's answer.

He ignored his food once more and gave me his full attention. He looks as he was about to say yes until his head cocked to the side and he narrowed his blue eyes at me.

"This isn't because I'm the only gay friend you know, is it?"

I scoffed, "Kurt, do not belittle yourself that way. I like spending time with you and I'd be really alone there because Brent and I are _complete _opposites and…you're my friend," I finished with a gentle smile.

A smile spread across his face too. "Okay, I'll come with you as your friend."

…

Chapter Review Replies:

**Samsmythe118: ** Yes it will definitely take time. Especially for Kurt, you will have to wait and see ;) and thank you! Glad you enjoyed it!

**GleekyPatronusWolfyStarkid**: Every time I reply to you I'm scared I'll spell your pen name wrong, so sorry if I ever do! Ha ha and thanks! But Blaine has a little bit of a sensitive side with drinking in this story.

**Mrs. Evans-Overstreet: **Aw, thanks! Aren't they? Well here it is! Enjoy!

**COMING UP NEXT: Kurt's audition, Blaine talks with Jake and hears more from Vanessa… Don't forget to leave a review on your thoughts! Until next time! Keep Calm and Ship Klaine!**


	5. Chapter 5: Frustration

**A/N: It's finally here! Chapter Five of Facts of the Heart! Kurt's audition is in this chapter and we get a little heat from Blaine and Jake, also more with Blaine and Vanessa. Enjoy! :)**

**Warning: Homophobic slang.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee or its characters. All property goes to Fox, Ryan Murphy, and the rest of its rightful owners.**

Facts Of The Heart

Chapter Five: Frustrated

Frustrated.

People use that word a lot. Simple minded people often use the word "frustrated" to describe a shopping trip. Honestly, they have never been in a situation quite like mine. I have a girlfriend. Some boys that I know want to spend every waking minute with their girl. I just want her to leave me alone so I can spend more time on my rapidly-growing relationship with Kurt.

I know what you're going to say.

You're in high school, you think high school relationships are frustrating you naïve little boy?

No, I am not talking about my "high school relationship" with Vanessa.

I'm talking about my _problem_. My problem of how I have no feelings towards a girl who I am naturally attracted to and I might…_slightly_ may have some sort of categorized attraction to this Kurt. A very slight one!

Because I am not gay.

I can't be gay.

So here I am in my last class of the day, anxiously waiting for this lecture to end, so I can head over to the music hall and hear Kurt's audition.

I can't wait to hear him sing again. I'm curious as to what he's going to sing and if he took Wes' advice on the high notes. If he does, I hope he hits them…who am I kidding? It's Kurt. He's fantastic.

The bell rung and I couldn't pack my messenger bag fast enough. I was one of the first students to head out of the classroom where I rushed to the music hall.

Surprisingly, I was the first person there.

Or so I thought.

I entered the music hall and grinned as the familiarity came to me. The stage, the lights, the seats, the grande piano, drums…and the clinking of shoes?

I _thought_ I was alone.

Footsteps seemed to be coming from the empty stage. I supposed it was Wes, David, or maybe Thad, since they are all arriving soon to hear Kurt's audition. I shrugged and sat by their usual chairs and checked my phone for any new messages. Of course I had some from Vanessa but I ignored them.

This is Kurt's time.

I am not giving my attention to Vanessa who will probably question me with questions even I don't know the answer to.

As I turned my phone off and looked up to the stage again, a boy appeared on stage and peered close to see me. The footsteps must have belonged to this boy.

"Blaine?" his voice asked. There is only one person that voice can belong to.

"Kurt?" I asked back.

"Hey! What are you doing here? I thought it was just the Warbler council…" he trailed off excitedly.

"It is," A voice from behind me interrupted my train of thoughts. I turned around to see Wes come towards his usual seat, two chairs down from me, with David and Thad following behind.

"I can stay right?" I asked the three of them as they took their chairs.

"You know that you have no comment as to our choosing of Kurt joining the Warblers," Wes informed me.

"I just want to hear him. I've been looking forward to this Wes, loosen up." I immediately regretted telling Wes to loosen up. He shot me a warning glare and I backed down as I offered him an innocent shrug.

"Just keep quiet," he grumbled.

Kurt stood awkwardly center stage watching the two of us converse while poor Thad and David was forced to listen to Wes' strict strategies. Wes pulled out a grading rubric and glanced up at a silent Kurt.

"Hey Kurt," he grinned friendly at him and wrote 'Kurt Hummel' at the name entry.

"Hello," Kurt replied politely.

I almost laughed at the polite awkward exchanges.

"Ready for your audition piece?" David asked him with a friendly smile.

"Yes, I am," Kurt nodded confidently.

"Great! Did you follow my advice on the high notes?" Wes questioned him.

"Yes, this song has an ending note of a high F," Kurt grinned with his hands behind his back.

I grinned proudly at him. He did his homework.

"Awesome. What will you be singing?" Thad asked.

"Defying Gravity from the Broadway show Wicked," Kurt answered.

"Perfect," Wes murmured.

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. I love Wicked! And I _love_ this song! But that is a very high note. I hope he hits it. If he doesn't, there is now way Wes will let him in the Warblers.

Wes nodded at David signaling him he wrote down everything he needed.

"Whenever you're ready," David said to Kurt.

Kurt gave us four a short nod and crossed over to the piano. He's playing the song on the piano too? Excellent choice!

I leaned back in my seat, a little nervous and a little excited, almost like the first day of school. I know Kurt will be amazing but I hope he can impress Wes the Robot over here.

Kurt's relaxed and limber fingers began to play across the piano keys. I looked closely at him; his face seems relaxed, he isn't breathing fast or jerky, he seems…at home almost. I smiled to myself.

Kurt has this in the bag.

_Something has changed within me_

_Something is not the same_

_I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game_

There it is. It's the perfect pitch, tone, smoothness, clarity…and everything else about Kurt's voice that always seems to captivate me. God, I just want to sit here all day and listen to him sing.

I glanced over and noticed that throughout the verses and choruses Wes was taking small notes. Small, short little sentences even. Not long paragraphs for boys that usually do not make the cut.

So this is a good sign.

I watched Kurt closely to make sure he followed Wes' entire audition grading rubric that I know too well. His voice was perfect to me, he was looking at all of us, and his face showed no nervousness or tension, his fingers also never missed a beat.

This is the last verse. This is the high note Wes and all of us want. I held my breath, I knew Kurt practiced this and I want him to get this, to get this audition.

_And nobody in all of Oz_

_No wizard that there is or was_

_Is ever gonna bring me…_

_Down!_

Wow.

Oh my god.

He did it! He hit the note! I wanted to jump, point in Wes' face, and tell him 'I told you so' in a very childish manner but Kurt's performance was so excellent that I just wanted to sit back and watch the rest. I turned to my left to see David, Wes, and Thad.

Their jaws were all dropped.

Their eyes were wide open.

Yes, even Wes.

I crossed my legs and watched Kurt triumphantly. You did it Kurt. He finished the song and took a breather. He then turned to look at all four of us with impatience in his eyes.

"Please go backstage for a couple minutes Kurt. We'll discuss and call you out to tell you the result," Wes told him professionally.

Kurt gave us another short nod and followed Wes' directions.

I smirked at them and all three looked at me.

"He's amazing."

"Wow."

"There should not be any discussion for this."

Those were the words that stumbled out of the Warbler's Council mouths. I just grinned and nodded knowingly. So after David and Thad shared with Wes that they both want and need Kurt, and after Wes' sharing his rubric with the two of them, they made a decision.

"Kurt, can you come back on stage please?" Wes projected.

Kurt was back on stage in a matter of seconds. My best guess is he was probably hiding behind the curtain, biting his finger nails and hoping we will let him into the Warblers.

"Congratulations, Kurt! You're audition was excellent. Welcome to the Warblers! We have rehearsal today in an hour in the senior commons. Can you be there?" Wes broke the ice with a grin.

Relief swept over Kurt's face and a wide, almost toothless smile, was spreading as well. He immediately nodded.

"Yes, I'll be there!"

"Good. I'm sure Blaine can show you. I've heard that you two are good friends." Wes winked at the both of us.

…

Walking out of the music hall, my phone vibrated with yet another text from Vanessa. I'm really getting tired of this. I'll deal with the consequences later. I shut off my phone and waited outside the main door for Kurt.

A few minutes later, a more calm and collected, but still quite excited, Kurt Hummel greeted me outside the music hall's main doors.

"Hey! Great job Kurt, you were fantastic," I congratulated him and embraced him in a tight hug that practically came out of nowhere.

"Thanks, I was a little nervous." He shrugged as the two of us walked off together towards the senior commons.

"I couldn't tell." I shook my head and smiled.

"Did they mention any negativity during the screening process that I should work on?" he asked.

I almost laughed. If only Kurt could have seen the look on their faces after he was finished.

"You were perfect. They wanted you as soon as you left the stage," I told him simply.

Warbler rehearsal today was filled with Kurt keeping up with the songs and choreography we have in muscle memory, which did not take him long I might add, and Wes forcing Kurt to introduce his self and the rest of us to introduce ourselves to Kurt.

We're working on a new Pink number: "Raise Your Glass". I of course had to sing, with me being the lead soloist. I felt a little strange singing in-front of Kurt. I had just witnessed an amazing audition and here I am singing a semi-easy number.

I wanted to impress him for some reason.

Warbler practice today was the one of the days where I have never felt so focused, so on cue, so…performance perfect. It wasn't even for the Warblers, which made my stomach cringe, it wasn't even for me. It was for Kurt.

…

After Warbler practice, Kurt was tired out so he headed to the dorms to take a nap. I, on the other hand, had some unfinished business to attend to.

After Kurt's embarrassing experience at the cafeteria yesterday, nothing stopped me from filing a witnessed bully act to the Dean. I picked a few of the students who witnessed it, and the three of us reported it to the Dean.

Jake has no clue this is on his record by the way.

I swore to Kurt yesterday that I'd talk to Jake and that is exactly what I'll do.

I felt anger, rage even, started to stir in the pit of my stomach. Uncivil, unfairness, bullying, and hatred began to fill my mind when I thought of Jake. I did not want to imagine what the scene looked like.

Jake is a big guy.

No, he's no Sasquatch, but I'm sure his biceps are about the size of my head.

Kurt isn't the smallest boy in the world, but compared to Jake he's pretty tiny. I could only imagine the fear that built in Kurt's eyes as Jake humiliated him and destroyed his artwork. Along with experiencing the flashback memories of previous bullying Kurt had to endure at his old school.

Before I went to the dorm building to angrily fist-knock on Jake's dorm, I went to the one floor in the Student Resource building that I knew Jake spends eighty percent of his time at: The Weight Lifting Floor.

The elevator sounded a dim _ding! _before its doors opened and revealed a whole floor dedicated to sweaty, adrenaline-pumped boys building muscle and cardio. The floor begins with glass doors that lead to the weight lifting room.

I enter, show the man behind the desk my Dalton student card, and glance down at the sign in list. Sure enough, Jake Marlow is printed towards the bottom. I walk towards the weights and immediately feel like I'm shrinking.

The biggest of the biggest Dalton students are here. All are in wife beaters and basketball shorts, and seem three times bigger than me. I cradle my messenger bag close to my body out of reflex and scan through the panting, muscle boys as my mouth begins to salivate.

I immediately taste it and wipe it off before anyone sees.

I don't know where that came from.

There he is!

Jake is towards the back of the weight lifting room adding more weights to a bench press. I tap on his moistened, tanned, shoulder and he turns around. He arches his eyebrows when he sees me. He seems both amused and surprised that I'm here.

"Anderson? Want tips on the toughest small weights?" he asks boastfully.

"No, I'm here to talk to you." I narrow my eyes seriously at him.

"Talk all you want. I won't guarantee I'll listen Mr. Goody Shoes…" he mumbled and began to lie back on the bench press.

If I was strong enough I'd take the weights and drop them on his chest.

But I proceeded with my conversation that I planned for about five minutes in my head anyway. "I submitted an act of bullying to the Dean. Along with two witnesses. It's on your record now," I informed him boldly.

His arms dropped to his side and he sat up on the bench press. His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to put his big hands on my throat and suppress my airway.

"The hell? How did you pull that off?" his voice raised in anger at me.

I'm used to this. My father is an alcoholic. You don't scare me Jake.

"Don't play stupid. I know what you did to Kurt in the cafeteria yesterday," I lowered my voice and stepped closer to him.

What could he do to me in this crowded weight lifting room?

Put another act of bullying on his record?

Because I'd be fine with that.

"Do you know what that little…_Kurt_ kid is?" he eyed me carefully and lowered his voice as well.

"What is that?" I asked, not curious at all, but playing along.

"He's a _fag_," Jake spat in my face as he stood inches from my face, immediately becoming taller than me. "He even doodles dresses and _outfits_," he chuckled.

Fag.

That word made my mouth and fist curl and my stomach tower with rage. I will _not_ accept that word. Especially not about Kurt.

"Do you even know what the word 'fag' means?" I spat in his face even though he was taller and more fearsome. "Don't throw around that word like you actually know what it means."

Jake shook his head and lightly threw his hands up in surrender. "Anderson, despite your little 'follow the rules' crap, you're a cool kid, quit trying to stick up for these gross guys. They're not right in the head."

"And you think its _right_ to humiliate and bully a boy here? You think _you're_ right in the head when you try to get the whole cafeteria to laugh at him? We have a no bullying policy here Jake," I reminded him with a firm voice.

He sighed loudly as he sat on his bench presser again. "Here we go again with the rules. I swear Anderson—"

"Leave Kurt alone. That's all I'm saying. He's my friend and nobody deserves to be treated like scum even if you picture him that way. You're little 'fun with Kurt' is on your record and if you continue to harass him or anyone else, including me; you'll be banned with two more tries."

Completely ignoring my lets-wrap-together-this-pointless-argument statement, Jake raised his glistening eyebrows at me. "You're friends with a fag?"

Fag.

There it is again.

Will he please just stop saying that word? The more times he says it, the more my anger flairs up and I have to restrict my urgency to punch him. It's almost like he knows I cringe on the inside when the word falls from his lips simply.

"His name is Kurt," I said lowly.

"Don't tell me he's trying to persuade you to turn homo," he teased and laid back down on the bench press, about to stretch his muscular arms out and grab the weights.

I sighed in frustration of his ignorance, "You heard what I had to say Jake. I advise you leave him alone. It'd be best for your own sake if you do," I concluded. I knew I had to leave this room. If I didn't, I'd hear him continue to belittle Kurt or repeatedly say that disgusting word and my knuckles would end up in a bowl of ice.

So I need to do what I do best from a problem: Run away from it.

Clear off steam.

I looked back at Jake and he grunted as he lowered the weights, silent.

"Did you hear me?" I asked him with a rude underlying tone.

"Loud and clear," Jake groaned.

I turned on my heel and left the smell of body odor and sanitation.

…

Returning to the dorms was a good way to let the anger and rage leave my mind and body. I was so shaken with anger at Jake at the weight lifting floor. I needed to get away, take a walk and get some air, honestly to just be alone.

Whenever I was angry at my mom or dad—mostly dad, I'd leave. Not necessarily drive, that doesn't help.

I'd just walk.

I'd walk down the street to be alone and let the feelings slip away, it seemed to help. Then I'd go back and avoid him as quickly as possible and stay in my locked bedroom. No matter how hard he would pound on my door.

I invited myself in to Brent and I's dorm, I looked over to his side in the room and was in experiencing some shock. I was expecting him to be sleeping, watching TV, or something else that could be saved for later, but he was actually sitting cross-legged on his bed—which was neat and made properly for once—and doing what seemed like homework.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"What's it look like?" he asked without looking up from his textbook.

"It looks like homework but that seems abnormal for you," I sarcastically replied.

"Justin's visiting tomorrow. I want all this out of the way," he said quietly.

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion, but then realized that Brent didn't see my confusion due to his homework, so I asked him. "Justin's never been here, has he?"

Brent shook his head in reply.

"What's the occasion?" I pressed.

"Well you know I'm gay now and I haven't seen him in a week so I figured he could come," Brent answered with a smile creeping on his face.

"A week isn't that long," I mumbled.

"It is when you're in love with someone," he sighed.

I felt a little uncomfortable at how blunt Brent is now with his sexuality. Not that I judge him, I just still can't understand how a man can be in love with a man…

"When Justin gets here, don't tell anyone what he is to me, alright? Especially Jake." Brent bothered to look up from his textbook and at me in the eye.

One look at Brent and I knew Jake must have given him some trouble, or tried to. Maybe that's why Brent has been keeping it a secret.

"Oh I won't," I swore.

That was the only time Brent and I spoke of Jake that evening, especially since I walked all the way from the Student Resource building to the Dorms to clear my head of our small argument. Before opening my messenger bag to dig into some homework myself, I checked my phone for any messages or missed calls from Kurt.

None from Kurt.

He must still be napping.

Instantly a call was coming into my phone and it is Vanessa, I ignored many of her calls yesterday and I decided now was the best time to answer.

"Hello?" I answered before stepping out in the hall.

"Oh my god! So you are alive?" she answered sarcastically.

Think of a lie of why you've been avoiding her for almost a week straight. Hurry.

"I'm real sorry Vanessa but I—accidently ran over my phone and then I—"

"_Accidently_ run over your phone? How is that possible?" she interrupted. I had to agree. That lie did suck. It's already out of my mouth though so I better run with it.

"It fell out of my pants pocket…right underneath the tire…I didn't notice until I backed up and heard the crack," I let out a pretend sigh.

There was silence then she let out a sigh. "Did you have to get a new phone?"

"Well the phone company gave me a phone just like the old one…warranty." I shrugged; I had to think of a way to explain to her when she sees me with my "old phone".

"Well when did you get it? Why couldn't you have called me?"

Ugh, there goes that nasally voice again.

"They were out of this brand so it had to be ordered it just came in last night…and then my—my parents had to come take it to the school when I got out of class today. I would have called you sooner but I had—"

"Warbler practice, I see," she finished for me.

"Yeah," I sighed.

Well that wasn't _so_ hard.

"I'm sorry I've just been so worried baby. I thought you were just ignoring me."

Actually…I have.

"Why don't we go out tomorrow night after school? Since I came to Dalton last week you can come to Westerville High this week and we can go have dinner or something," she suggested.

I bit my lip.

That showing of Rent is tomorrow night that I promised Kurt we would go to, I was actually really looking forward to Kurt and I seeing it together.

"I—I'm actually doing something tomorrow night." I bit my lip.

"…_what_?"

"Yeah I'm going—I'm going to go see Rent," I sighed. I have a feeling I'm going to regret telling her this.

"Well why don't we go together?" she chirped.

"I—I'm going _with_ someone." Oh God, that sounded bad.

"Who?" she asked immediately, and with jealousy I might add.

"No! Not like that. It—It's a guy…" I sighed.

"Someone from the Warblers?" she asked.

Yeah, I could go with that. Kurt is technically in the Warblers now.

"Yes."

"Wes?"

"No."

"David?"

"No, not him either."

"Then who? Jake?"

"Kurt!" I answered.

"Kurt? Is he new?" she asked confused.

"Yeah he's…" Amazing, talented, funny, sweet, naïve sometimes but so postured and elegant, the most astounding eyes that they capture me unlike yours… "New," I settled.

"Well uh…you two have fun then," she suggested awkwardly.

Crap. Now she's going to think I'm gay again.

"We will just uh—I'll call you before I go to bed tonight, alright? Love you," I finished grimly.

"Love you too baby!" she called back before I ended the conversation.

Love.

I know it's not a word to be taken lightly but if I don't tell her she gets confused and will think I'm gay. Love should be a word you use to describe someone you're absolutely crazy about.

Someone you just connect to and want to be with all the time.

They're a friend and your lover.

They know you better than anyone else.

But you're also drawn to them and want to be with them, near them, they seem to…_captivate_ you.

Almost like...oh no, no, no, no.

Kurt is a guy.

I am a guy.

This can't work.

It won't work.

I'm straight, right?

Even if I am going out with him tomorrow night…

Chapter Reviews:

**Mrs. Evans-Overstreet: **Haha cool! I know some people can get kind of crazy about that so that's why I warned in advance! Thank you!

**GleekyPatronusWolfyStarkid: **Thank you. I'll I'm going to say is Vanessa has mixed feelings about Kurt and Blaine's…relationship for right now. Sort of like Blaine. Ha ha

**A/N:** **So glad the hiatus is over! I can't WAIT for the Valentine's Day episode! Anyone else with me? Show of hands! So hope you enjoyed the chapter, Chapter 6 will be coming as soon as I can write. In the mean time, drop a review! Let me know your thoughts! Come What Klaine, Klainers!**


	6. Chapter 6: Deceitful To You

**A/N: Chapter six has arrived! I am so amazed of all the followers on this story! Thanks so much! This chapter has arrived a little earlier than the other so kudos to me! Also, this one is a little longer than the others. So enjoy!(:**

**Warning! Mild language, homosexual offensive term, mild violence.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee or its character. All property goes to Fox, Ryan Murphy, and the rest of its rightful owners.**

Facts Of The Heart

Chapter Six: Deceitful To You

…

It has been a week and two days since the day I met Kurt in mom's psychiatric floor. I don't know why I keep such a good memory of that but it's just stuck in my head. I can remember the date, time, what I was doing before…I'm sure the day I met Kurt will become a flashbulb memory for me—for some unknown reason.

I haven't run into any trouble with Jake today, or Kurt _with_ Jake for that matter. When Kurt and I sat with the Warblers at lunch and breakfast today, Jake wouldn't even look us in the eye. I'm sure Jake isn't scared of me; his reason for ignoring us completely probably has to do with an act of bullying on his record.

I now know what he thinks about Kurt and that he thinks Kurt deserves this. So I have the power to put any more acts of bullying on his record if he lays a finger on Kurt. I feel a little important, it feels good that a small guy like me can make a pumped up and well-shaped boy act civilized.

I texted Vanessa throughout the day whenever she texted me so there wouldn't be any more fights between us. I'm sure some day I'll run out of lies as to why I can't pick up her calls or messages.

A lot of times, I wish our relationship didn't exist.

I want to spend more time with Kurt, which is strange since we're only friends, but why can't it just be that easy?

Why can't I choose what relationships exist in my life?

I know I'm naturally attracted to girls but…sometimes I get so confused and frustrated.

Kurt promised me that he'd take us to where Rent would be showing since I took him to the coffee date in my vehicle. After our last class of the day I went up stairs to change out of my school uniform before meeting Kurt in the hallway.

Before I went into Brent and I's shared dorm, I heard voices coming from inside: two male voices. I listened closely; one is Brent for sure—the other one is unfamiliar. So I shrugged it off and opened the door a little hesitant.

What I saw surprised me.

It's _Justin_ and Brent.

The two were sitting on Brent's bed facing each other, knee touching knee and forehead touching forehead, the two were talking softly and then…then Brent kissed him.

He placed his hand on Justin's hip as Justin's mouth opened invitingly and then some tongue action started to occur. They both looked so happy.

You know, it should weird me out that I'm seeing two guys kissing for the first time.

It should be…_really_ weird.

But for some reason it's not. For some reason I'm surprised at how natural this looks, I'm also surprised how sad I feel. But feelings don't exist, do they?

I cleared my throat before I saw anything that might scar me.

The two boys pulled away instantly with flushed faces while I stood there and awkwardly grinned with a wave of my hand for Justin. Justin nodded awkwardly as well.

"Hey Blaine…I thought you were at Warbler practice," Brent said out of breath.

Although Brent sounded clueless and so was his thought, I was glad one of us decided to speak. "That's on Tuesday's and Thursday's, also it was yesterday," I replied.

"…oh. Well hey this is Justin, my boyfriend," Brent introduced me to the boy sitting at his side who waved shyly.

"So I figured…" I mumbled.

"Justin this is my roommate Blaine. He's lead soloist for our show choir, spokesperson for Dalton academy, and I think he's on the Dean's list too—"

"_President's_," I corrected him.

"Nice to meet you, Blaine." Justin gave me a short nod.

"Likewise."

"He's coming with us to the PFLAG convention next month. Him and his friend, remember I told you last week?" Brent asked him and Justin's eyebrows rose in remembrance.

"Oh yeah! Kurt."

"Kurt _Hummel_. He's with me in the Warblers, too. We're actually about to go somewhere so…I was just going to change…" I trailed off before seeing the look in Brent's eyes. They widened a bit and seemed mischievous.

"Babe why don't you see the show times at the theater while I talk to Blaine in the uh…bathroom I guess," Brent shrugged; I assumed he wanted to speak with me alone and our bathroom is the only room in our dorm that isn't open. Justin nodded after receiving a quick kiss from Brent then turned around to retrieve a laptop out of his backpack.

I went into the bathroom with Brent quickly behind. He shut the door and stood against it. My heart began to speed up faster. What is with the sudden mood change? He's starting to scare me.

"What's up with you?" he asked in a hurry.

"E-excuse me?" I stuttered, unaware of his question.

"Are you gay or aren't you?" he asked rather bluntly.

I scoffed, "I am _not_."

"Do you realize how often you talk about Kurt? Like are you even _aware_? Today you started telling me about tonight and you just went on and on about how you haven't been this excited for something since you boarded here."

"I didn't realize my excitement was such a burden to you." I narrowed my eyes.

"It's not but you talk about Kurt all the time, you're with him all the time, now you two are going out _and_ you should see the look on your face when you talk about him," Brent insisted.

There is no way I do all those things.

Okay _maybe_ I'm with Kurt a lot but we are friends, really good friends, I might even consider Kurt to become my best friend. Best friends hang out, do they not?

But there is no way I talk about Kurt that much.

I definitely don't have a "look on my face"…do I?

"What _look_?" I pressed him.

He licked his lips and fixated a focused look on his face; like he's trying to put into words something he knows too well. But he can't know this "look" too well. Because I don't have a look reserved for Kurt. "It's like…your eyes start to gleam and then you just kind of go off into this day dream."

"You're making things up," I scoffed hurriedly.

"Would you like me to record it next time you bring up Kurt again?" he smirked.

"No. Just—what's your point?" I sighed.

"I _think_ that you may like him and I _think_ you're not as straight as you believe yourself to be."

My eyes down casted as I remembered my first crush—a boy. But dad says it's not natural, he told me himself I'd fall in love with a girl.

"That's not true." I finally confirmed. "I like girls. I _have_ a girlfriend."

"Yeah I don't see any special look reserved for Vanessa when you mention her, only Kurt," Brent smirked again. He seems so sure of this, like he's so _sure_ that I'm gay like him.

"Stop Brent just—I can't be gay. Stop trying to talk me into it," I pleaded.

"Listen Blaine, I'm not trying to talk you into anything. I'm pointing out what's obvious. If you were _really_ attracted to girls you would want a girlfriend, you would want to see your current one and actually text her."

I swore my heart leaped up as what I thought was a secret this past week, escaped from his lips.

"How do you know I've—"

"She asked me a couple days ago if you were still alive," Brent groaned. "I also know that you wouldn't have a girlfriend right now if it weren't for the fact that Vanessa's uncle is the president to the college you want to get into… am I right?" he threateningly reminded me.

I kept my mouth shut. I'm not saying it isn't true…perhaps because that's the only reason I wanted to date her but I don't want people knowing that.

Brent noticed my lips clamped shut and a smug smile spread across his face as he continued, "So if you are really straight…I want you to think about boobs."

"What?!" My voice raised an octave higher. What a preposterous idea, why would a guy ask another one to think about breasts?

"Just close your eyes. Think about boobs," Brent insisted as he placed his hand over my eyes.

"Brent this is gross," I commented as I had no other choice but to close my eyes and really…think about _boobs_. I felt a grimace appear on my mouth.

"Are boobs gross to you? Are girls unattractive to you?" Brent questioned me. I almost considered screaming out yes. I want someone to hear me. So someone can know of my problem, my lack of dopamine perhaps. But I can't, because I can't be gay.

"Now think about Kurt," Brent said quietly.

Kurt.

So sweet, so independent, so compassionate, so talented, so funny.

My friend.

"Think about that thing about him that…_captivates_ you, what makes him attractive," Brent almost whispered the last part.

Eyes.

Voice.

Smile…wait, what am I doing?

I'm a guy.

I am not attracted to guys, it doesn't work that way!

"Kurt is…he's…not attractive. He's a guy and I'm a guy," I took his hand off my face, refusing to follow Brent's foolish game.

"Sounds like you had trouble getting those words out buddy," Brent suggested lowly.

I can't handle this right now.

"Brent, _please_. Please _stop_. I know...I know who I am. _Please_ let me out and get my clothes so I can change. We're going to be late," I pleaded to him, in fact I pleaded so hard that my eyesight got blurry and my voice quivered.

I want Brent to know of my problem but I don't want to be gay.

Brent's face softened and he shrugged a shoulder "Just stop lying to yourself Blaine; I want you to be happy."

…

I was so glad to get out of that dorm when Kurt picked me up and we walked to his Navigator. It did seem unfamiliar for a guy to pick me up and walk me to his means of transportation…but I liked it. I liked finally getting away from Brent pressuring me to accept something that is confusing and beyond words of expressing and to just have fun.

Kurt makes me laugh, he makes me smile.

I love being with Kurt, especially when we're not around the other Dalton boys and it's just the two of us.

"Is that the place?" Kurt pointed to the Westerville Community Center as he drove in the direction I was leading him.

"That's it, the only Westerville Community Center there is," I remarked.

Kurt laughed and shook his head. "Just making sure."

The two of us were lucky to find a place near the front doors to park. We paid for our tickets after a couple of minutes of waiting in-line and then walked into the auditorium.

"So where are we sitting?" Kurt asked me.

The best seats in this place are obviously in the middle section, close enough to hear their voices and words but not too close so you feel weird when they look into the audience.

"Follow me," I smirked and grabbed Kurt's hand.

I can't help myself; I feel a need to just hold it every time I'm near him. He has some sort of affect on me; maybe Kurt's a wizard or something…

Ugh, listen to me.

I'm coming up with insane excuses to not believe that I may have a horrid attraction to him.

He smiled happily as he followed me to the best seats in the house.

"Good choice," Kurt observed.

"Thanks, I like to come here a lot." I shrugged and pulled out the program as the two of us sat down.

"Have you ever thought of being in the community theater?" Kurt wondered as my eyes were reading through the list of the main cast.

"Of course but I'm so busy with Dalton, the Warblers, being the Dalton's spokesperson…" Having a girlfriend…I mentally added. "Have _you_ ever been in a musical?" I asked a little later.

"Not too long ago I was Riff Raff in Rocky Horror," Kurt replied.

Wow.

Kurt as Riff Raff? I'd see that.

"The Rocky Horror Picture Show?"

"Yes but we couldn't put it on for the public because of school issues but it was still fun," Kurt chuckled.

"Of _course_ it would be fun. Musicals are tripling the fun of performing." I grinned.

"You are right," Kurt agreed.

Just then, as Kurt and I were in a small banter about how dancing, acting, and singing are all fun in different ways, I heard a voice I did not want to hear.

"Blaine?"

There's only one nasally voice I can match that person to.

Oh dear God, it must be Vanessa.

"Who is that?" Kurt turned around and began to look.

I put my hand on his shoulder trying to force him to turn around. "No—nobody it's—" But it was too late as Vanessa walked towards us and found an empty seat on the other side of me, immediately causing our previous conversation to abruptly end.

"Well hello Vanessa," I greeted her unenthusiastically.

"Hey, why didn't you invite me to tag along?" she asked bluntly with a fake smile.

"Did you pay?..." I trailed off.

"_Yes_ dummy. Is it really such a chore that I have to make myself be with you? Even if you have plans with some…boy over there?" Vanessa waved her hand at Kurt.

"Kurt. Kurt Hummel," Kurt insisted, leaning forward to speak to her in the eye.

"What is your problem? Why are you acting pissed off? I told you I have plans." I tried to keep my voice control down as I spoke to her.

This really could be the worst time to see her.

I was so thrilled to spend the night with Kurt. And of all people, _Vanessa_, feels the need to barge in and become a nasally third wheel?

Instead of replying to me, she leaned forward and looked at Kurt. Kurt looked back at her unnervingly and confused. "So this is the new Warbler?" Vanessa smiled at him.

"Blaine actually convinced me to join the Warblers."

Stop talking Kurt.

"So you knew him at Dalton?"

"Well before Dalton, he convinced me to come to Dalton."

Kurt. Really, I need you to _stop_.

"Really?"

"Yes he saw me when I was at the hospital."

Kurt, please!

"How long have you known Kurt?" Vanessa asked me.

"A..a week," I tried to space out my time of answering.

"Oddly specific. Since you haven't been communicating to _me_ for a week…" Vanessa murmured suspiciously.

"Who is she, Blaine?" Kurt asked, still confused.

"I'm his girlfriend," Vanessa replied for me proudly.

Kurt's eyebrows rose and his face started to turn pink. "…oh."

My lips turned into a grimace as Vanessa being my girlfriend was no longer private for Kurt and I like I had wanted it to be.

"Can I talk with you after the show, Vanessa?" I gritted to her.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

The performance of Rent was entertaining and moving. But instead of whispering the humorous lines and singing quietly along with Kurt like I intended on doing, one of my arms was in a lock by Vanessa's stern hands as she kept kissing my jaw line and cheek throughout various moments.

I enjoy musicals more than Vanessa so it's obvious she substitutes her boredom with something she finds enjoyable—sexual contentment.

After the show the three of us walked to the foyer and began to talk quietly until I found the staircase. I was sure no one was on the second floor so I thought Vanessa and I could go up there and I can simply ask Vanessa what the hell her problem is.

"Aren't you leaving, Kurt?" Vanessa asked with her arm around mine.

"No um—Blaine is—is coming with me," Kurt answered nervously.

"Why?" Vanessa asked lowly.

"I came with him," I sighed.

"Interesting," Vanessa murmured.

"Just wait here for a few minutes Kurt, we'll be right back and then we can leave." I offered in an apologetic form as I took Vanessa's skinny, manicured hand and took her with me up the staircase.

The second floor was surrounded with wooden flooring, walls, and doors; completely bare and dark. I was sure no one could hear us so I could be as loud and irritated towards her as the urge built up inside me.

"_What_ is your problem? I haven't seen you be this bitchy in a long time." I decided to be straight forward.

"I just decided that since you haven't talked with me in a week, the same amount you knew this Kurt kid, I should be suspicious as to why you two are going out together." She dramatically threw her arms up.

"I told you about my phone problem," I insisted.

"Whatever, something is up with you and him. How come you've never told me about him?" she questioned.

"I haven't known him that long!" I defended myself.

"And you're already becoming his buddy, helping him get into the same clubs in the same _school_ as you? What's your aim?" she listed off on her fake-nail fingers angrily.

I stepped closer to her and lowered my voice. I don't like the way she's talking about him. If people could only get to know Kurt like I have, then maybe they wouldn't toss him aside so easily.

"It was mom's idea for me to talk to him. Don't judge Kurt. I may have seen him at his worst that day in the hospital. He looked broken, scared, and numb. I wasn't going to talk to him at all but he needs Dalton. He needs the Warblers," I said slowly and quietly to her.

Her brown eyes seemed to want to understand my view but her hard-head usually doesn't allow for her theories to change. Then I said something I thought I would never have to courage to say to her: "Everything isn't about you."

Her eyes blew up and her face looked like she wanted to draw a fist and punch me where it would hurt the most.

But for some reason she didn't, instead she shrugged her shoulders and asked insincerely: "What happened to him?"

I shrugged and backed away from her, leaning my back on the hard-wooden beam on the other wall of the hallway. "I don't know. He won't tell me. All I know is he was—hurt badly from bullies at school," I sighed.

"Is there a reason he was—"

"He's gay." I decided I better let the cat out of the bag sometime.

"Oh, well that makes sense." She smirked.

"Do _not_ put this on me, Vanessa," I groaned.

"I _will_ Blaine. The first gay boy you meet you instantly bond with and you know why?" she stepped closer to me, her voice rising with every word.

"Brent's gay, too," I reminded her quietly.

"Is there a deeper reason for being with him? Other than the fact you have this nurturing need to help him? To help a _stranger_?" she questioned me.

"Stop it, Vanessa. I told you to not bring this up. I am not gay!" I screamed at her.

"You're happier with him. Happier than I could ever make you," she backed away and suddenly her tone dropped quieter…even sad.

But I decided to not go on that with her. I told her to not bring this up again. "How did you analyze this? Based upon Kurt's fright you put him through?"

"I just know. You're not telling me something," she said scared to me.

"I told you to not bring it up again and I'm telling the truth," I repeated to her resignedly. She noticed my tiredness and shut her mouth. "I need to go; Kurt has to go all the way back to Lima tonight." I stepped closer to give her a peck on the lips as routine but she pulled away.

"Don't—you don't have to kiss me." She frowned as she looked away.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I promise."

She just nodded and hugged me, apologized for her attitude tonight, and then left without saying a word to Kurt.

"You didn't hear any of that did you?" I asked him nervously.

"Did—did you want me to? I was on one of the benches over there sketching…" Kurt trailed off.

"No that's—that's good. I didn't want you to," I admitted.

"Alright let's go. I have a long drive and then have to explain to my dad why I'm late."

When Kurt pulled up to my house, I noticed there were no vehicles there. I knew mom worked a late shift at the hospital tonight…but then I suddenly remembered that dad would be out with his buddies so it's just me at an empty house tonight.

"Would you like to come inside? I don't want you to fall asleep driving all the way home," I offered with a chuckle.

"I'll be fine. It's not my first time driving from Westerville to Lima. Goodnight Blaine, I'll see you Monday." He opened his arms and I immediately settled in-between them and hugged him.

"See you Monday. Goodnight." I waved to Kurt as I stepped out of his Navigator. He drove off and I searched for my keys and then un-locked the door.

Since Dad is gone tonight I figured I could watch TV in the living room as appose to the small one in my bedroom that I usually spend most of time in.

I turned the dim light on and settled in dad's usual spot on the leather couch. There was a funny sitcom that appeared on screen so I sat back and watched the remainder of the episode. I was so indulged in the comedic storyline and dialogue of the show, that I didn't hear a vehicle drive up.

But I did hear the front door slam open against the wall.

Then Dad appeared in-front of me, struggling to balance his self against the wall. His eyes were gleaming and his eyesight was staggered.

I instantly knew what I had to do: run away; run away to my bedroom.

But the way he stood against the entrance to the living room made it almost impossible to simply walk by him.

"You…you know that… my spa?" Dad gestured his place on the couch I was currently sitting. I instantly moved to the further spot of the couch, hoping he would sit and I could run away.

Instead he stepped closer to me.

"Where you go to tonigh?" he slurred. "Late," he added.

I bit my lip. "I saw a…a musical with a friend. I told mom."

He just grunted and continued to stare me down; well, as much staring as a drunken man could do. His eyesight averted and his hand reached out, then grabbed a handful of my gelled hair.

I took in a sharp breath as he kept a tight and painful grip in my hair.

I'm suddenly glad Kurt refused to come in.

"Why you do hair this like? Loo like…a little…little _queer_," he spat in my face. "Then it…it loo…ugl when I pull it…like _this_," he emphasized as he tugged hard on my hair.

Tears sprung to my eyes as he tugged hard but I forced them back. "Dad stop, that hurts," I whimpered.

I gasped as his hand let go, leaving my hardened hair in a mess. He laughed in amusement.

"Loo funny."

This man doesn't look like a physics professor. He looks like a fool and is acting like one too.

His face tightened when I didn't say anything back. "Speak," he said slowly.

I honestly didn't know what to say—agree with him that I look funny when he pulls my hair?

"Speak," he growled. An angry growl, one that made my stomach turn.

Then, a slap to the face.

I knew this was the time. I am not going to let him hit me. I ducked underneath him and ran as fast as my legs could allow me up the stairs to my room.

He stumbled after me but tripped on the third stair and fell.

After I was locked in my room I observed the slap on my face. My cheek was a little red but nothing that would show on Monday.

Chapter Reviews:

**Mrs. Evans-Overstreet: **Here it is! Although it probably didn't go like you thought it might. I also applaud you for being the only review for Chapter five before I posted this one! Congrats! ;)

**A/N: Will work on the next chapter soon, so don't forget to review so I can reply to it in the next chapter and know your thoughts on the story progression! Coming up next: More of Blaine's parents, more of Blaine wondering of Kurt's "problem" Also, who else has heard Darren's version of "Don't Stop Me Now"? If you haven't, GO HEAR IT! It's AMAZING! Until next time, Come What Klaine!**


	7. Chapter 7: Untrusting

**A/N: Sorry readers but I will no longer be doing review replies to the end of each chapter for NOW. It just seems a little silly when there is only 1 or 2 reviews a chapter to reply to, if I get 4+ reviews for each chapter I will start again but like I said now it just seems silly. Don't stop reviewing though! I absolutely LOVE reading your reviews! They are my writers crack ;) Okay aside from that note… enjoy chapter seven! **

Facts Of The Heart

Chapter Seven: Untrusting

I woke up the next morning with a feeling that is similar to every time I successfully escape my dad when he's drunk: A coward, but yet an accomplishing coward. I _did_ accomplish to run past my dad, make it up the stairs without tripping and falling, and stay in my room all night.

But then again, it is just a _feeling_. Nothing real.

I groaned as I checked my phone before stumbling out of my bed.

It's out of habit; I usually have a "Good morning!" text from Vanessa before she has her early gym class on Saturday's. But none. There are no new messages from anyone, including Vanessa.

I blink twice and click on her contact in my messages history, perhaps I clicked on it in my sleep?

There are none from this morning.

Wow.

I grin and send Kurt a text: **Good morning! What are your plans for this beautiful Saturday? Hopefully it is not staying at home alone**_._

I check myself in the mirror before grabbing something for breakfast.

Oh god. My hair is a mess.

I quickly comb through the slightly gelled, slightly ratty mess and brush the thickness down with my fingers. I look closer at the cheek that was slapped last night. There is no redness or a possible sign of a handprint.

Good.

If I just stay clear of dad today _and_ tomorrow I can make it to school Monday with no visible marks. Usually dad never hits me. Well I wouldn't know, I avoid him, like a coward.

My phone vibrates loudly signaling that I received a new text from Kurt.

_Wow, you're an early bird! But I definitely won't be at home alone today. I have to go up to Westerville again today. Going to the hospital): But it's okay dad's driving me so my gas isn't completely wasted._

I laughed at the last part but couldn't feel easy about this text. Why is Kurt going to the hospital here? I thought he got released!

**Why are you going to the hospital?** I sent.

I left my phone in my bedroom as I felt my stomach grumbling. I decided that it's time to face whatever music there is while I make myself a small bowl of cereal.

From the moment I stepped outside my bedroom door to the moment I walked in our Island kitchen, I knew that mom and dad were asleep. No one was arguing. All the lights were off and it was so quiet that I could probably hear atoms charging.

I didn't think cereal made that loud of a sound coming into a glass bowl than when there _is_ no sound producing around me.

I was enjoying the peanut-buttery taste of unhealthy cereal, leaning over the bar, when the light in the hallway flicked on and loud footsteps became closer. My heart jumped and I silently prayed it was only my mom.

Oh, it was mom.

Dad too.

My eyes grew wide and I backed away carrying my cereal with me.

"Hold on Blaine, don't go anywhere." I was surprised that came out of _mom's_ mouth.

My father looked over at me and I immediately looked away by reflex.

"We're going to talk," she says.

"I'm not talking with him," I decided quickly, avoiding their gaze.

"Yes you are, look at me," Dad says.

I flinch when I hear his voice. I can't look at him. I'm afraid he'll slap me again. My only hope to avoid an unwanted conversation from Dad is to go into my room. I started to think about it before they both cornered me into the bar.

So I had nowhere to go if I didn't want to crash into their chests.

This time I can't avoid him.

They must have discussed this, about me not communicating with him for years and also to corner and question me. Well what's it to them?

"I want to talk to you about last night," Dad began. I chose to look at a clock on the wall. Anywhere but into his eyes, it just makes me shrink.

"Are you listening to me?" he asked. I nodded sharply. "Well it's hard to tell when you refuse to say anything or look me in the eyes. That's very disrespectful, Blaine," he commented sharply.

I looked over at mom for help but she nodded. Why is she agreeing with him?

"Did he set you up to this mom? You _know_ why I don't want to talk with him. I've told you," I reminded her desperately. Why is she making me do this?

"I'm right _here_. Stop talking to your mother like she isn't a part of me," Dad argued.

I bit my lip. I wanted to say something to him but nothing came out. After years of not caring anything about him, my silence just became routine. Now when a moment comes to speak, I can't.

"Your father is sorry honey," Mom says with hesitance.

"Sorry for what?" I _finally_ look at him. Even he is shocked that I am finally looking at him. The rage that suddenly grew within me allowed me to speak words to him. "Sorry for becoming an alcoholic that ruined this family and all communication flows, sorry for hitting mom and trying to hit me? Do you know what you're sorry _for_, Dad?"

He pointed his finger at me. "Do not talk to me with that—"

"I know, I know I'm being disrespectful but I don't think it's appropriate that I show respect to you as a trusting parent when you have shown me no sign of trust," I defended.

His eyebrows rose and his mouth hung slightly open. I know this look too well. This is Dad's famous "pissed off" look.

"Who helped you get into Dalton Academy?" Dad looked at me intensely as his head cocked to the side.

"_My_ grades, _my_ essays and _my_ honors rewards," I answered with a cocky smirk as I beat him to the punch.

"But who _taught_ you about academics? About science and facts and education? Public school teachers just go over the basics they don't teach. _I_ taught," he neared me as he got angrier.

"So I'm supposed to respect you for teaching me academics when I was _younger_?" I asked out loud in confusion.

"Quit getting so angry at me Blaine, I'm trying to talk compromise with you." Dad sighed.

"Well I learned getting angry from the best. Add that to your list of education skills." I turned on my heel and walked out of the kitchen, past the two of them. I left my bowl of slightly touched cereal on the bar and headed up the stairs like usual.

"Honey you didn't finish breakfast!" I heard mom call from downstairs.

"Not hungry anymore!" I replied back loudly.

…

After locking my bedroom door, showering in my bathroom, and changing into some dry clothes and gelling down my disgusting hair…I checked my phone: One new message from: Kurt.

_It's for a test on the research floor. _

**What kind of test?**I sent.

_It's for my…problem._

I sighed in disappointment. He still isn't comfortable talking with me about this?

**You still aren't going to tell me about your problem?**

_Of course not. It's embarrassing._

**Do you have a third nipple or something?**

_Oh my god Blaine no. It's much more complicated than that._

I laughed. I knew he had to be blushing right now.

**Do you have multiple personalities?**

_If I had multiple personalities I think you would have noticed._

**That's true. Please just tell me? I'll keep it a secret. Do you not trust me?**

_I trust you to an extent but not about this. _

**I'm tired of guessing):**

_Not me. This is actually pretty amusing._

**Kuuurrt! **

_What's funny is I can actually picture you whining and sticking your bottom lip out._

**You're mean. That isn't funny.**

_It kind of is._

**Well you at least tell me how it goes? I'm worried about you.**

_Of course I will(: I have to go. Long drive. Text you when I'm out!_

**I'll be waiting!**

I sighed. After a couple of minutes past I knew Kurt left and is not going to text me back until after his test. Whatever that is. What _is_ Kurt's problem? All I know is that it's personal, embarrassing, and apparently led him to the ER…There are so many possibilities that I just couldn't categorize which one could fit Kurt.

Then there is the research part of it all that confuses me.

A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts.

I sighed, that better not be dad. "Who is it?" I called.

"It's your mom," the voice from the other side of the door said.

"Are you alone?" I ask.

"Yes," she says and I go up the door and open it.

She has her scrubs on, her purse over her shoulder, and her cell phone and keys in her hand. "I'm going to work," she points out the obvious. "I wanted to talk to you before I left. I—"

"You're leaving me with dad today? Why would you do that?" I gasped.

A whole day alone with Dad? An entire Saturday? I thought last night was the worst that could happen to me.

"Honey I can't help the schedule. I've got a boy coming in early for a test and—"

My head snapped up and looked straight into her eyes. I was suddenly very interested since it might be linked to Kurt and I's conversation. "Who is it? The boy?" I tried my best to act casually.

"Uh…Hummel, the boy I wanted you to talk to. He has this test that has to be routine for twice a month—"

"What...what is the test?" I interrupted her again. I knew in the depths of my stomach that mom wouldn't tell me. Most of her work related things are strictly private and personal. But it couldn't hurt to ask, right? The worst she could say is no, which is exactly what I get from Kurt.

"Oh I can't tell you that. Why are you so interested?" a small and amusing smile spread across her lips.

I gave her an innocent little shrug. "I'm just…curious about your work is all."

She nodded and it seemed like there was something she wanted to say, but then she sucked her lips in and kept her mouth shut.

"Kurt has a…unusual condition and the tests are highly confidential information we send to researchers. That's all I'm telling you," she settled.

That's highly interesting.

Confidential information to researchers? Oh my god this sounds so serious.

"Is he sick?" I assumed the worst.

"No he doesn't have cancer or anything deadly. Just—it's really none of your business, Blaine," Mom sighed.

"Kurt's my best friend," I blurted out. Mom narrowed her eyes not believing me for a second until I decided to further explain. "He—he goes to Dalton now and I managed to get him into the Warblers. He's amazing mom." I felt a little warmth flood to my cheeks.

She smiled gently at me. "I know he's amazing. Sweetest boy I've ever met other than you." She reached forward and playfully pinched my noise. I quietly laughed and batted her hand away.

"I'm just worried for him. I want to know why he's so…_broken_," I pleaded to her searching for that one word that felt like it described Kurt when I thought of him.

Broken.

"Maybe _he'll_ tell you." Mom pointed out. I almost scoffed out loud. Does she not think I've been trying for him to? "Anyway I've got to go and I wanted to make sure you didn't hate me from this morning."

I shook my head. "I don't. I could never hate you. But I don't like what you forced me to do. I _told_ you I'm never talking to him again," I reminded her seriously.

"He's your father," she argued.

"He's my _biological_ father but I don't feel connected to him. I'm not speaking with someone who causes destruction in their home with their own family, mom. It doesn't make sense. Don't make me do this against my will," I pleaded once more.

"He's sorry," she says.

"Yes he is _definitely_ sorry but I will never accept his apology because he continues to drink and doesn't care. Maybe if he took his addiction seriously I'd consider communicating with him often."

A deflated and sideways smile showed on mom's face. But she opened her arms for me anyway.

"Well, I love you. Give me a hug baby." I did as she said and she kissed the side of my head. "I'll see you tonight, okay? I'm getting take out from that Chinese place across from the hospital."

That made me a little happier; I love Chinese.

"See you mom," I said sadly. Because after mom leaves…it's just dad and I.

For an entire Saturday.

…

It was nearing two o'clock and I haven't heard anything from Dad. Well, as much as you could communicate through a closed and locked door. I had finished a majority of my homework and kicked back with some video games that needed attention.

I was feeling pretty good with myself.

Level 5 on a newly purchased game.

Then Kurt called.

His unknown tests must be over. I happily paused my video game and picked up his call.

"Hey Kurt! How were the tests?" I happily answered.

"Horrible," he muttered through the other line.

My heart skipped. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh yeah…everything's um, entirely normal. I just hate how they make me feel," he groaned.

"I'm sorry. I wish I knew what you were referring to or I might be able to help…" I trailed off trying to hint.

"Forget it Blaine. You can't help me with this. Well…it's not impossible for you to help but that would be far too embarrassing," he muttered the last part.

"I don't understand—"

"I don't want you to. I just—I wanted to…to hear your voice for some reason," he chuckled a little.

"Hey it's cool. I like talking to you. We're best friends alright? Anytime you need someone to talk to. Call me. I _will_ talk to you," I swore to him.

"Really?" he sounded surprised.

"Of course. Kurt I…I really…_really_ care about you and I would hate for you to feel uncomfortable with something and to not tell anyone about it. Especially someone who cares so much about you. Someone like me. Okay that sounded really lame. It sounded better in my head, I swear."

I felt like hitting my head on a wall but then I heard a gentle laugh from the other line.

"It is _not_ lame. I needed to hear that. I just need someone like you. Someone who really cares."

I wanted to sigh deeply and wrap him in my arms, just to make him feel better.

"I _do_. So tell me. Tell me everything you want to say."

There was silence. A long silence.

I checked my phone to make sure we were still connected.

But when I placed the phone back to my ear I heard a sniffle on the other side. That little sniffle made my heart turn a little.

But Kurt didn't say anything.

"Let it out Kurt, please. I'm _here_," I reminded him.

"It just…it hurts so bad," he finally cried.

I grimaced forcing my tears behind my eyes hearing the sound of Kurt's broken cries.

"Are you in pain?" I asked.

"I'm getting used to it, I guess. But it just…scars me. I don't like it. I don't like it at all. It's humiliating. I feel so small," he continued to cry and had trouble getting words out as his flowing tears made hiccups become an obstacle for clear speech.

I wanted to say something to make him feel better.

Anything.

But nothing came to mind, especially on a problem I know nothing about.

"I'm so sorry Kurt," was all I could say.

"This is stupid," he muttered.

"No it's not. Do you not feel better when you let this out? To tell somebody?" I asked him. Mom, as a psychiatrist, always told me talking made the patients feel better about something. Especially talking out loud to a non-judgmental, caring person.

"Yes, I do. But do you not believe in feelings?" he challenged me.

I almost laughed. What am I doing? Feelings are…just a feeling they can be lies. But then again, they could be everything. Educational facilities believe in facts, structure, routine…but something so creative and…unstructured is difficult to put into technical words. Feelings can be everything truthful to you. It could be the key to finding yourself and how your emotions play on different events and subjects.

I can't believe this.

This boy is making me re-think everything that I thought that I knew.

"Maybe I thought so. But…people change."

…

I was sitting on my bed reading a book I stole from mom's library, _Feeling Politics: Emotion in Political Information Processing_, basically a book about feelings. A knock on the door. I looked at the time. Mom's still at work. That's probably Dad. There's no way in hell I'm talking to him. So I just ignored him. "Blaine, answer the door," he said. I've been through this before. Dad will stand on the other side. At first he'll ask nicely, and then he'll tell me he's not leaving, then his voice will get higher and louder, he eventually will start yelling and begging. Then I usually fall asleep, tune it out, I don't know. But he eventually goes away. I continued to read. The door rattled, and then opened. I scooted back on my bed as my book fell out of my hands. My eyes wide and frightened as could be. How did he open the door? But the key he gestured to me in his hand suggested he must have found it. Damn, I thought I hid that well. He neared close to my bed and his gaze averted to the book that dropped in the floor. "Feeling Politics: Emotion in Political Information Processing…is this not your mothers?" Dad arched an eyebrow at my sudden interest in feelings. "I was interested," I said quickly. "I'm not going to kill you. Quit looking at me like that," he tried to laugh. I swallowed thickly, forcing myself to relax but it wasn't working. Dad sensed my trouble and nodded grimly. "Can I sit down? I'm sober, Blaine." "For once," I said quietly. He motioned to the bed and looked at me with a questioning face, repeating his question verblessly. "I guess it wouldn't hurt." I shrugged half-heartedly. He sat and the room fell silent. This is my father who I had no clue of how to communicate with. I haven't talked with him ever since he tried to hit me that one day years ago. I have refused to speak with him. Now he's sitting in my room, which I usually keep safely locked and he doesn't even know where to begin. "I've wanted to talk to you Blaine for a long time. To apologize and—" "Why? Why try so hard if you're just going to treat me like you did last night?" I asked emotionless. "I was drunk," he defended. "Yeah you seem to do a lot of that," I scoffed. He grimaced and pulled out a pamphlet from his back pocket, placing it on top of my feet that were currently planted on my bed. "Alcoholics Anonymous?" I read aloud the pamphlet's title curiously. "Your mother gave it to me last night. She actually has given me one once a month for the past couple of years and I've just brushed it aside, trying to believe that I don't have a problem." I let out a short laugh at that. "But I do. You know it, Melanie knows it…I don't want to be the one that destroys us," he says with such an honest look in his eyes that I know he means what he is saying. "So you're serious? You're going to the meetings and dealing with this?" I asked a little convinced. "I am serious. I don't want to hurt you Blaine. Even though it's hard for me to show it…I _do_ love you." He offered me a small smile. It was so genuine that I wanted to melt into my father's arms but the events of last night put up a wall between doing that. "It didn't feel like you loved me last night," I reminded him. He frowned grimly and nodded. "I understand if you want space for a while. But I'm willing to work on this. At least believe me," he says. I've seen the look in his eyes, the sudden change of emotion and even the research he's done—I would be a fool not to believe him. "I do. I know if you set your mind to something you'll do it. But I just…I don't want to be scared anymore," I honestly confessed. "You won't be," he says with a reassuring grin. Then there's silence again. The two of us are sitting trying to look at each other's eyes with this new found realization but it's still hard. An urge builds up inside me to ask my father about this new struggle of mine and without thinking I blurt it out. "Can I ask you something?" I ask quietly. "Sure." He looks up with a hopeful glance. "Do you…believe in feelings?" I ask carefully. He narrows his eyes in interest. "Do you have a broader category?" "_Any_ feeling." I shrug. "Son if we didn't have feelings we'd be robots," he chuckles. I sigh. "I know that but…do feelings really have significance? Or are they just a myth created by ourselves?" "Well feelings are the emotional response or—" "Tendencies to respond I know, I know the definition. But do you believe feelings are fact? Not fiction?" I ask and hold my breath, hoping that my father, who strictly believes in all things science, could convince me that this struggle of mine is real. "Think about it. It's responding, responding emotionally. We are humans and we respond to things on a daily basis. Like...just now when I showed you the pamphlet and you responded with a little hesitance a little interest. Feelings are the same way," he explains. "Explain further…" I suggest, knowing there is more. "Feelings are responding to things…with our _emotions_. If I gave you a million dollars, what emotion would you have?" "Happiness?" I answer with sarcasm and he laughs. "Exactly. You're using the emotion of happiness to respond to an event. That's a feeling, and you can't fake that. Feelings are what make us human," he concludes. I smiled. That does make more sense to me. I wish I would have come to that realization years ago when I pushed down every feeling I've ever had towards…someone and strictly base my life on facts. Then I ask another nail-biting question. "So…you felt…_something_ with mom then?" "I _do_." Dad answers in present. "That's what I thought." A/N: Coming up next: Kurt's problem and bullying will come about. Blaine is still slowly trying to figure things out. Don't forget to review! Until next time.


	8. Chapter 8: Who I Really Am

**A/N: Chapter eight is here! You guys really crack me up. Just in the last chapter I tell you I won't be replying until I get 4+ reviews and then I get exactly 4 reviews in the last chapter. So I WILL have a review reply at the end of this chapter. Keep it up guys! Thanks for following, favoriting, reviewing, and everything else amazing! Also, yes I am aware the last part of Chapter 7 ended up crazy. I tried to fix it but it won't change. It's edited normally on my computer but it screws up on here…I don't know. I hope you guys can still read it well! If any of you know any reason as to why it's doing that…please PM me! This chapter is a little bit longer than the others (as well as A/N) but it has A LOT in it. Enjoy! (:**

**Warning! Swear words, bullying, talk of sexual harassment and hate bullying.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee or its characters. All property goes to Fox, Ryan Murphy, and the rest of its owners.**

Facts Of The Heart

Chapter Eight: Who I Really Am

The rest of the weekend was quite pleasant. Dad was sober. I got caught up on homework and communicated with Kurt on and off like usual, but I never heard anything from Vanessa. I was really starting to get worried; worried that perhaps she's cheating on me. Not that it would bother me if she is cheating on me…it just doesn't seem like something she would do.

Monday I had a note from both mom _and _dad before I left for the week which is something I am not accustomed to. Mom had her usual motherly note while Dad's was excited about his first AA meeting tonight and told me to call him after seven so he could talk with me about it.

…

In my first class of the day, English Composition, I was actually fifteen minutes early sitting in my usual desk next to an empty desk since Kurt is not here yet, so I decided that _I_ should text Vanessa.

**Hey, how are you doing? I haven't heard from you all weekend. Text me as soon as you get the chance.**

I tap my fingers against the desk, not expecting a reply this early and right away, but I get one anyway.

Interested, I open Vanessa's reply: _I want you to figure yourself out before we both get hurt._

I felt my eyebrows scrunch up in confusion.

**What are you talking about?**

_Figure out who you really are, Blaine. Don't worry about talking with me until you do._

**But you're my friend though.**

_Fine. We can talk as friends just not as your girlfriend, okay? :)_

I sighed in relief. That sounds amazing.

**Deal :) **

A few seconds after I sent the text, Kurt walked into the classroom and looked straight at me as he sat down beside me. I haven't seen him in two days. It seems like forever. He seems a little shy and attentive at first. "How was your weekend?" he tries to ask casually.

I think back to Saturday, about Dad and I's conversation. "Pretty good, actually. Yours?" I ask back politely.

"You know how mine went," Kurt grumbled.

"I'm sorry," I expressed my concern for him.

"No I—I wanted to thank you, Blaine. I've always been more comfortable and trusting with you than almost anyone else I know but…when we talked after my checkup I—I really feel like I can trust you more than _anyone_ right now." Kurt smiled sweetly.

I silently gasped, does that mean?...No, I don't want to scare him with sudden questions.

"I would really like that more than anything," I grinned. It felt like a magnificent gate opened for Kurt and I's relationship. It's like something you try and stress over to open and then finally it just opens and in the simplest of ways. It feels amazing for that gate to open for Kurt and me.

"My trust?" he asked skeptically.

"Yeah, don't you agree? It's like the borderline of a solid friendship," I goofily inputted.

Kurt giggled a little and shrugged. "It is," he agreed.

He glanced around before opening his notebook. I saw him hurriedly skip through his sketches before skipping to a blank page.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Going to an empty page." He shrugs.

"Yes, very _fast_," I observe.

"I just—I don't want any trouble," he says quietly.

I couldn't believe this. "What has gotten into you? You've always not been afraid to stand out. No matter what people think."

"I'm just tired of getting _bullied_, Blaine. Especially at a school that is supposed to have a zero bullying thing or whatever. It's like I'm a magnet and if there's a bully out there they will find me. Am I so flaming that the first Neanderthal who spots me has to notice and humiliate me?"

"No Kurt they just can't handle someone who is different, who can be themselves and be proud."

Kurt scoffed lightly. "Different. Yeah they make sure that I know that," he grumbled.

"Would you stop—"

"We need to anyway." Kurt looked up at the classroom's door and there was Jake.

Sure enough, Jake came into the classroom. He was holding an un-covered cup which is against classroom rules, I might add. He looked at the two of us together and Kurt immediately looked down at the empty page of his notebook. He began to write today's date and the class name and teacher like usual, but this time in fear of being confronted.

I glared at Jake, not afraid.

Then Jake smirked at me, the bully _smirked_ at me like he doesn't know what I could do to him if he lays a finger on Kurt, like he has something up his sleeve. He stepped on an un-tied shoelace, perfectly actually, and stumbled forward in-front of Kurt's desk.

Kurt didn't notice due to scribbling words down in his notebook.

But I saw it all.

I saw Jake smirk at me and purposely trip on his shoelace. I also saw him "accidently" spill everything that was in his cup—which looked like ice water—on Kurt; entirely on Kurt. First the iced water hit his face and hair, and then the rest completely dampened his button-up shirt and drip down to his pants.

Kurt gasped when the cold ice hit his face and chest. His mouth gaped open when his perfectly coiffed hair flattened and became soaked with water, just like his button-up shirt. The cup must have been full of water, not even drunk out of.

"Oh, sorry about that Kurt," Jake said mockingly and then looked at me.

Every student that was actually in class twelve minutes early stared at Kurt, some even began to snicker. Kurt shivered at the iced water's temperature as his mouth remained open in shock.

I glared at Jake and began to lean forward and ask Kurt if he is all right before Jake neared closer to Kurt than I was.

Kurt looked up at Jake with red, glimmering eyes. He swallowed, trying to hold back his tears and shivers.

"Look at that Kurt you're all _wet_. _Dripping_ with my drink, sorry about that," Jake stared down Kurt as Kurt flinched at his emphasized words.

I stood up and defended Kurt. "What is your problem Ja—"

"Look dude his shirt should enter in a wet T-shirt contest!"

"God, Kurt you're wet!"

"You spilled that all over him man!"

Those were the remarks the ignorant students made towards Kurt. I knew he couldn't take this humiliation anymore, he completely forgot his school supplies and messenger bag as he ran out of the classroom, running past Mr. Bailey who just walked in.

He must trust that I'll return his things to him.

I want to go after him but I should give Jake a piece of my mind and let Mr. Bailey know of my absence.

"Why is Kurt all wet?" Mr. Bailey asked casually.

"Jake spilled his water—no, _iced_ water—all over Kurt and made fun of him in-front of the _classroom_!" I said to Mr. Bailey, hoping another bully act could be put on Jake's record.

"Accidently!" Jake insisted as he stood beside me.

I turned to face him with a cold glare. "That was _not_ by accident, you—"

"I tripped on my shoelace and _it_ did spill over Kurt. It should have had a lid on it, sorry Mr. Bailey," Jake interrupted me and turned on the charm for Mr. Bailey. Just like he does to every Dalton teacher and authorities figure here. He makes people believe he's a good kid who follows by the rules but he is just another cold-hearted bully in disguise.

"That's alright Jake. Let's just see that it doesn't happen again. Make sure you apologize to Kurt," said Mr. Bailey.

I rolled my eyes; a fake apology from Jake is going to make this better? "That's it? Does this not get put on—"

"Of _course_ not Blaine, it was an accident," Mr. Bailey replied firmly.

"You weren't even here. It _wasn't_ an accident," I defended poor Kurt.

"_Was_ it an accident? Did anyone else see this?" Mr. Bailey looked up towards the desks that are now being filled up.

"Yeah he did trip on his shoelace."

"Yeah, did you not see Blaine?"

I wanted to shake these students. They saw what happened; they even helped Jake humiliate him. Of course knowing Jake he probably bribed them to help him do his dirty work. Where he could bully Kurt and have it slide as an accident. He's getting back at me for putting his act on his record.

Know he knows this is a sensitive spot of mine and it can easily make me snap.

He's trying to get back at me without even directly saying or doing anything to _me_.

I have to admit that's smooth Jake but Blaine Anderson has some tricks up his sleeve as well.

"I'll go apologize to your buddy. I'll make sure to do that at lunch today," Jake smirked to me.

"No, don't apologize." I shook my head.

"Oh and why not?" Jake raised an eyebrow.

"Because the only apologies Kurt _deserves_ are real ones."

…

After gathering Kurt and I's things, apologizing to Mr. Bailey, and begging Thad for notes, I ran off to the dorms, hoping Kurt would be there. The elevator opened at third floor and I grabbed the brass handle and hurriedly knocked on dorm 3D.

"Go away Wes!" I heard Kurt's broken cry.

"It's not Wes, its Blaine."

There was silence, a few loud noises, and then I heard a quieter, "Wait, please."

So I waited.

It was only for about two minutes but a much dryer Kurt answers the door. He changed into a different shirt and pair of pants. His hair was still soaked and matted to his face, and his eyes were just as red.

I could tell he had been crying, perhaps on his bed since the sheets aren't as straight and neat as usual.

"I—I got your things." I stupidly presented him his messenger bag by showing it to him in my left hand.

"Is my notebook in there?" Kurt asked.

"Yes, everything—_everything_ is in here," I confirmed to him, knowing what he meant.

"Thank you," Kurt sighed relief as he took his messenger bag from me and then gave me tight grin. I stood there in silence. "Is there anything else?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out.

"For what?" he shrugged uncomfortably.

Seriously? I gave him a straight look. "You _know_ what."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's not your fault," he says as he walks off into his dorm with his things. I assumed that was body language for me to come inside and close the door behind me. So I did.

"Yes it is," I insisted.

"Blaine _you_ aren't the one who spilled iced water all over me _and_ its October, do you know how freezing I was running to the dorms to change into another thin shirt that we're allowed to wear?" Kurt ranted at me.

I couldn't help imagining an upset, shivering and wet Kurt running through the Dalton campus with nothing but a slightly wet blazer to keep him warm. It had that same effect on my heart that those sad animal shelter commercials do.

It made me feel horrible.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing Blaine, _please_," Kurt said with an annoyed undertone to his voice.

"_I_ put his act of bullying on his record and _I_ confronted him about it. _I_ told him to leave you alone. This is his way of getting back at me and I'm sorry."

Kurt sat on his bed and rubbed hastily at his arms. "I'm not going to be mad at you for doing what's right. He needs to be confronted. At least one of us had the courage to do it."

"But look what happened, he continued this and does it in a way where it looks like an accident," I say as I sit beside him.

"So it can't be submitted to the Dean?" Kurt's face seemed to drop.

"No, everyone's convinced it's an accident, even Mr. Bailey," I say and if it was possible, Kurt's face seemed to drop even more. I took a deep breath before continuing. I'm not good at talking about stuff like this—feelings; because up until a few days ago, I was certain that feelings didn't exist. "I'm also sorry I can't keep you—keep you safe. That's why I wanted you to come here and now looked what happen."

Kurt just shook his head. "I told you to—"

"Stop apologizing, I know. But I made a promise and it's not coming to pass." I hate when that happens. I usually never make a promise that I can't make come true. I was certain Kurt would be safe here.

"Besides it's not your job to keep me safe. Why would you worry with that?" Kurt cracked a tiny smile.

"Because you're my—you're my best friend and I care a lot about you. I want you happy. Isn't that what safe is?" I felt like that was the stupidest thing I may have ever said. I expected Kurt to snort or playfully hit me but instead he wrapped his arms around me.

"Thank you," I heard him mumble into my shirt.

Yes, I am aware that Kurt is still slightly wet and his hair is soaked but do I care? No. Kurt needs someone like me: someone who cares. I want to be that person to him because I do care about him, so much. I hugged him back tightly, oddly wanting him to be close. I love it when Kurt and I hug, it feels amazing.

But eventually, our hug had to end and I dropped my arms before Kurt. "Are you okay now? Do you want me to stay and help with your hair?" I asked when we finished, desperately wanting to not see Kurt so miserable.

He laughed quietly at that. "No that's fine. But…_could_ you stay? We can go to next period."

"Well my next class is Honors Trig but our class after that is together right?" I asked.

Kurt nodded with a smile.

I couldn't help but let my mind wander to Jake's "accidental" bullying act to Kurt this morning. It was so strange to hear Jake say obvious words like "wet" or "dripping" and for Kurt to flinch and more tears to well up in his eyes.

It was very strange.

"Does Jake know something that I don't?" I blurted out.

Why do I keep doing this? I am so composed and always think of words before I say them, but when I'm with Kurt I just blurt out stuff before thinking like an idiot.

"No I never talk to him. Why?" Kurt's face seemed confused.

I frowned before answering. "Well he—he said things to you that made you more upset and…I didn't understand why?" It came out more like a question at the end than I wanted it to be.

"Care to explain?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

I took a deep, nervous, breath before continuing. "Well when he said you were wet and—and _dripping_. How come that affected you so bad?" I asked quietly. I couldn't help but notice Kurt flinch when _I_ said those words.

"I don't want to talk about that," Kurt muttered.

"How come?" I shrugged.

"Because I don't!" Kurt screamed at me with pleading eyes. His eyes seemed to say "Don't ask. Shut up." But I continued anyway, for some stupid reason.

"Does he know something that I don't?" I asked a little hurt.

"Of _course_ not. He's an imbecile. It's something personal with me not me and him." Kurt looked at me with those pleading eyes again; I knew he was hoping I'd get his signal to _shut up Blaine_. But I didn't.

"Well what is it?" I ask lowly.

"I don't want to talk about it," Kurt said slowly.

"Sorry," I apologized.

"Stop a—"

"I know."

There was silence again. I was trying to fit together the pieces of this puzzle….

"_This boy has got a lot of problems."_

"_That's personal, it's different."_

"_Kurt has a…unusual condition and the tests are highly confidential information we send to researchers. That's all I'm telling you."_

"_It hurts so bad."_

"_I don't like it. I don't like it at all. It's humiliating. I feel so small."_

"_Look at that Kurt you're all wet…Dripping…."_

"_I don't want to talk about it."_

Oh my god.

Could he have a...

There is no way. That's physically impossible, isn't it?

"I'm so cold," I hear Kurt say as he interrupted my train of thoughts. I looked and suddenly he wasn't sitting beside me anymore. He was lying down on his side, hugging himself trying to warm up. "Wes doesn't turn the heat on in here, my body is still freezing, and I refuse to blow dry my hair today," he muttered.

"Do you have an extra blanket?" I began to stand up.

"They're being cleaned," he sighed.

I sat down again.

"How about—" I can't believe I'm suggesting this. "—body heat?"

"Excuse me?" Kurt asked defensive, but I know he heard me well.

"I—I could lay with you. I'm very warm. Vanessa says I'm a humanized electric blanket," I continued.

"Do you want to? I don't want to force you to lie with a guy," Kurt let out a miserable laugh.

I was silent for a few seconds. I am a…honestly, I don't know if I'm straight or not anymore. This new realization of feelings is giving me a whole new jump into reality. But I'm a guy who is about to lay with another guy—Kurt.

Do I want to lie with Kurt? I ask myself.

"I want to," I answer both Kurt and myself out loud.

Then it was Kurt's turn to be silent.

"…okay," he finally said.

I lay close to Kurt's turned back and he didn't move so I assumed we would do the "spooning" position. That felt strange to think out loud. His arms relaxed from hugging himself as he allowed my arms to wrap around him. I pressed his body close to mine and lightly en-tangled our legs together. I scooted up a little on the bed so Kurt's head could lie on my chest since I'm so short.

If I ever walked in on two guys spooning on a bed I would instantly assume they're gay.

I didn't feel weird at all. For some odd reason, I liked having Kurt this close to me; I liked having his head on my chest and my arms around his slightly damp, cold body.

He seemed to relax more underneath my arms.

I gently smiled at his reaction; all I want is for Kurt to feel safe, to be happy.

I could feel his hair beginning to soak through my shirt when I heard him speak.

"You _are_ warm," he murmured.

"I've never done this with a guy before," I admitted with a small laugh.

"Is this too weird for you?" Kurt asked, immediately trying to sit up but my arms held him still.

"No I—I didn't say it was weird. I just…said I've never done this before."

Kurt obviously didn't have anything to say to that. He relaxed once more as he allowed my body to warm him up.

"Do you want my blazer?" I asked.

"I'm not going to take your blazer from you."

"No I'm fine. I'm naturally hot." I began to sit up a little as I took the blazer off and handed it to Kurt.

"Well if you insist…" Kurt smiled and took the blazer.

My heart seemed to do a little flip at seeing Kurt in my clothes. I know, I know, he has a blazer just like mine but he still looked so…_adorable_. Ugh, stop it Blaine.

It was silent again while I pressed up close to Kurt again as we assumed our previous position. I liked the silence though. I could hear nothing but the light rain against the window and Kurt's breathing as I felt his stomach gradually move up and down underneath my arms.

I looked down at him and he seemed so relaxed, so peaceful, I thought was going to fall asleep.

But instead he said, "I want to tell you something, Blaine."

"What is it?" I ask a little intrigued.

"Remember when—when you first met me? In the ER?" he asked.

The exact date, time, and moment before, yes. It's a flashbulb memory.

"Yes, I remember," I answer.

"Remember how I got there?" he asked with a little hesitance.

"It was about bullies, right?" I asked back.

"Yes. Is it—is it okay if I tell you what happened? I haven't told anyone. Except for Dad." Kurt sat up and I sat up as well. We both crossed our legs and sat across from each other knee-to-knee. I placed my hand on his knee and gripped it supportively.

"Yeah, sure, that's okay. What happened?" I urged him to continue.

Kurt took a deep breath and looked away from me and up at the ceiling. His eyes shimmered at the memory and he swallowed thickly. "It was after Glee club. We just finished a vigorous rehearsal so I was very sweaty and wanted to shower before dinner with my Dad and step-mom and step brother so…I went to the showers."

The showers…why do I have a feeling that this can't end well?

"I was finishing up when—when the football team just ended their practice and my biggest bully was on the football team. I tried to hurry up and wrap a towel around my waist but they just…just cornered me."

I saw a tear fall from Kurt's eyes as he tried to control his breathing.

"Most of the football team wasn't in there it was just…four or five I think. But he—"

"What was his name?" I asked curious, wondering if it's the same boy I met at the bowling alley that night with Vanessa and some of Kurt's friends.

"Karofsky. David Karofsky," Kurt replied grimly.

…

"_Karofsky, leave him alone! Why are you here?"_

…

So he did this to Kurt. The boy I met at the bowling alley that time. "Huh. Carry on, sorry," I say to Kurt.

"It's okay. Well, Karofsky gave them a look and they started to hit me. I'm used to locker slams and dumpster tosses and shoves but—but not what they were doing. They were all clothed and I was naked except for a towel. I somehow got to the floor of the showers and felt like I could just die when—when he took my towel off," Kurt began to sob into his hands and I just couldn't take this much of miserable Kurt.

"Come here," I say and wrap one arm over his shoulders and another around his belly. He hid his face in my neck and cried.

"He saw me and looked at me…then started to—touch me and…and play with me and then—"

"Did he…rape you?" I interrupted him, asking the dreading question.

"Almost. He was just about to when my step brother came in. I managed to cover myself up but…Finn saw the bruises. I could barely walk from the pain so…he had to dress me and take me to the ER," Kurt sniffed.

"Oh my god Kurt..." I say disgusted by this horrible story. What else am I supposed to say when you're best friend tells you they were cornered, naked, and beat up and almost raped? I just wanted to hold him. Which I'm glad that I am now.

"Now _he_ knows. Now he—he's seen me and what if he tells the whole school?" Kurt's voice rises. I know he isn't talking about Finn—who is obviously his step-brother—but this Karofsky guy; the one who hurt him.

"I—I don't understand. What are you talking about?" I ask.

Kurt pulls away from me and looks straight into my eyes with his wet, reddened eyes. "He saw my…_condition_."

I understand that Karofsky saw Kurt's private area and touched him there but…condition?

"I still don't understand." I shake my head.

"Blaine, please, I don't want to say it!" Kurt pleads.

"I'm your friend am I not?" I say calmly.

Kurt nods but is still crying and breathing heavily. "You're my best friend," he says quietly.

"So _tell_ me. You've told me so much already. All you have to do is tell me what this is, is the reason you have tests done? Why you were on the research floor?" I ask further as I wrap my arms around him again. He nods miserably. "You can trust me. I _promise_," I tell him, looking into his terrified eyes.

He looks back at me and doesn't seem so scared anymore. He hesitates but then opens his mouth. This is the moment, the time when Kurt is going to tell me. I am not ready for this.

"I…I have a—"

And of course Kurt and Wes' dorm room slams open, causing Kurt and I both to jump away from each other, for Kurt to finish in mid-sentence and who appears on the other side of the door who comes in and starts screaming sat us?

Wes.

"Blaine! You missed English Comp and Honors Trig?! What are you doing!?" Wes screams.

"How did you know I was in here?" I ask defensively.

"Mr. Bailey said you went to find Kurt." Wes shrugs. He then puts a small amount of attention on Kurt who is looking away and wiping his eyes. "How are you doing by the way?"

"_Fine_, Wes."

The moment is obviously ruined. Kurt is trying to put himself together and Wes looks like he could grow horns. I place my hand on his shoulder causing him to look at me.

"You'll tell me later, right?"

Kurt nods without hesitation.

…

"He was just about to tell me what his condition is when Wes barged in screaming about our absences."

I was lying on my back on my bed while Brent was playing video games in his. He was sort of listening to me rant, considering he doesn't really give the best advice.

"Dude, I have absences every day and I still pass with A's." he shrugs.

"I know! That's what I said!" I groaned.

"Do you know what _might_ be Kurt's problem?" he asks.

"I have a tiny hunch but…it's insane and I don't have enough evidence," I sigh. I look over at Brent who is nodding slowly and destroying zombies or something. "I'm so confused, Brent," I say on a completely different note.

"Why?"

"Here recently I've discovered that feelings exist," I say sadly.

"Duh," he snorts.

I groaned. "Well—the reason I've always pushed them down is because…the first person I ever had a crush on was a boy. My dad told me to not be gay so I…lived by facts and turned off my feelings."

Brent paused the game.

He looked at me with a confused, bewildered look on his face. "So you deprived yourself?" I nod sadly. "And you're not attracted to girls at all?"

"I try to be. I _really_ do. But I can't—just—"

"Come out?" he suggests.

I suck in my top lip and nod. "Yes," I say.

"Why?"

"It's _scary_. I won't be known as Blaine Anderson, Dalton spokesman, Warbler's soloist, and placed on President's List. I'll be known as Blaine Anderson, homosexual."

Brent shakes his head and crosses over to my side of the dorm. He sits on the floor next to my bed and looks straight at me.

"There is nothing more important in this world than for you to be yourself, Blaine. So what if yourself likes boys? It's not creepy or weird. Its love," he smiles.

"I don't even know if I'm actually gay I'm just…_confused_."

Brent chuckles and shakes his head. "Blaine it's not that hard. I'm going to ask you a round of questions and you have to ask them super fast without over-thinking, got it? Whatever comes natural to you."

"Okay…"

I had no idea where he was going with this, and it seems completely off topic but whatever.

"Science or History?" he asks.

"Science."

"Musicals or Operas?"

"Musicals."

"Straight ties or bowties?"

"Bowties."

"Mustang or Corvette?"

"Corvette."

"Curly hair or gelled hair?"

"Gelled hair."

"Do you like boys or girls?"

"Boys," I say before I can retain it. I gasp and my cover my mouth, wishing I could put that word back in.

Brent smiles a devilish smile and pats my shoulder. "There you have it."

Oh shit.

I _am_ gay.

Review Replies:

Ffacowgirl89: Thanks! I did message you about this apologizing as well as the author's note. I'm terribly sorry!

GleekingItOut: You might! We will have to wait and see…although this chapter reveals almost everything.

Separate Entity: Yes, the oblivious Blaine we all know and love. I am so sorry about that! I messaged you about this and apologized again in the author's note. So sorry!

DarrenCrissIsPerfection: Yes I really think the storyline with Blaine and his father will be going places. Kurt and Blaine are always cute! Ha ha He will admit soon! Like I mentioned before, Kurt's condition is definitely getting closer. I am so touched! I'm glad you like it so well!

**A/N: Until next time Klainers! Review me your thoughts! I love to hear them! 4+ for a review reply on chapter nine! Also, how was Come What May? No one said anything about the flashbacks! I was a mess! It was beautiful and everything perfect! Until it ended. Coming up next: Blaine debating on coming out, and many more! Because I am not revealing to you too much ;)**


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